


Bes(w)otted

by calic0kitt3n (calico_kitten)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst and Feels, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Romance, F/M, Headmistress Minerva McGonagall, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Life Debt, Past Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Redeemed Draco Malfoy, Severus Snape Has a Heart, Severus Snape Lives, Slow Build, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:21:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 60,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25588975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/calico_kitten/pseuds/calic0kitt3n
Summary: "You were the one saying my name, Granger. You were making some funny noises, too. Care to tell me what that was about?""Mind your own damned business," she sulked and pulled the book back into her lap as she pretended to read.Draco moved away and she assumed that he'd left. That was, until his voice whispered in her ear."That's alright, Granger. I don't mind you dreaming about me like that."Hermione Granger returns to Hogwarts for a special Eighth Year, offered to the previous Seventh Years who wanted to return to study for N.E.W.T.s and recover some of what was lost in the war.EWE Eighth Year Dramione trope but now with more Snape! Extreme slow burn. Rated E to be safe (could change once the story is complete).
Relationships: Hermione Granger & Severus Snape, Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 80
Kudos: 180





	1. The Future is Uncertain

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: I own nothing pertaining to Harry Potter and the wizarding world and earn nothing from writing this bit of fiction.
> 
> Thanks for reading and commenting!

* * *

Our story begins during the Battle of Hogwarts….

**2 May 1998**

Hermione had followed Harry into the Shrieking Shack, determined to keep him from whatever was lurking in there. But she heard the giant snake departing and found in its place a dying Severus Snape. He was whispering something to Harry and blood was everywhere. Neither of them noticed her presence. The metallic stench made her stomach turn, but she felt like she had to do something. If it wasn't already too late. Harry blindly pushed past as she rushed to the man, knowing she'd have to act quickly. She grabbed a bezoar from her beaded bag and shoved it into the back of his mouth before performing a quick spell that would to cause the blood to clot. Sure that at least he was no longer bleeding out, Hermione wrapped her arms around him and apparated them to the Hogs Head before sending out a patronus to Madam Pomfrey, specifying the need for anti-venom, the best she had. Aberforth blanched at the sight of the two of them covered in blood.

"Aberforth, he needs help. Nagini..."

"I'll look after him."

"Tell... tell Madame Pomfrey that it was Nagini and I don't have an anti-venom.."

"Go, girl. Don't worry about us."

With a grimace, she cast a quick Tergeo on herself and apparated herself back to the school gates.

Poppy Pomfrey arrived moments later, took one look at Snape, and got to work.

"The Granger girl, she said it was 'is snake what did it."

The matron cursed and poured an anti-venom down the prone man's throat, noticing the bezoar already there. He could be already dead as far she she knew, but she knew that every second counted and thus didn't bother to check first. The clever young witch had at least stanched the flow of blood before she'd arrived apparently, but he would need blood replenishing potion which she had thankfully brought along and others still to stabilise his system while she attempted to draw the remaining poison out of him. She administered the potions as she pulled them from her bag, one after another until the floor next to her was littered with empty vials.

Satisfied of her initial rapid treatment, she cleaned his wound and carefully bandaged his neck to prevent infection. She requested Aberforth prepare a room as she slowly levitated the fallen professor to the provided bed. She ran a few diagnostic charms, but they were inconclusive at best.

"He might make it, but it's hard to know. I have others to tend to, but l'll come back later."

He gave the witch a nod and she disapparated.

When the battle was finally over, an exhausted Hermione sought out an equally tired Madam Pomfrey.

"Was he.. is he..?"

"I don't know, child. We've both done our best. I had to leave him with Aberforth for the time, but I'll see what I can do once the others have been seen to," the matron kindly replied.

"Just... just if he wakes up, please don't tell him that it was me. You can tell Professor McGonagall, but, please. Promise me."

"Why would you worry?"

"I'd just rather he not know. That's all." Hermione smiled nervously.

"Very well. I'll call Minerva and we can tell her together. Agreed?"

"Yes, thank you, Madam Pomfrey."

About an hour later, the three witches found themselves in a classroom that had somehow remained untouched.

"Minerva, the girl has something important to say."

"Yes, thank you both." Hermione paused and swallowed. "I.. um.. I called Madam Pomfrey earlier today to help save Professor Snape."

McGonagall's eyes grew large as she looked from one witch to the other.

"Where is he? Is he alive?"

"I'm not sure, Minerva. He was in terrible shape," Poppy explained. "That overlarge snake nearly ripped out his throat. If it weren't for the quick action of Miss Granger here, it's sure that he would have immediately died. He's currently in Aberforth's care as I couldn't move him during the fighting and, while I've treated him the best that I could at the moment, I'm not sure if he's going to make it. At best, he's likely in a coma."

"You did a brave thing, Miss Granger. I can't say he'll be grateful, but you may have saved his life."

"Please, professor, I don't want anyone to know. Especially not Professor Snape when he wakes. If he wakes." That little word "if" made her tremble with anxiety.

"Why is that, dear?"

"Because I don't want him to think that I did it to be smart or brave. Professor, it was just so awful, he was covered in blood and.. and you heard what Harry said later. I knew Snape wasn't as terrible as he wanted us to think. And if he.. if he makes it, I don't want him to think he's beholden to yet someone else."

"Miss Granger, you know about life debts do you not? It's a very serious thing."

"I don't want him to owe me anything. I did it freely and without desire for repayment. In fact, I saw it as repaying him for saving us time and again."

"Very well. Poppy, would you consent to an Unbreakable Vow? We can all three do it."

She gave a curt nod and the two older witches promised to Hermione to never tell anyone who saved Severus Snape in the Shrieking Shack, not even Snape himself.

* * *

Severus drifted. He was no longer bleeding out, but he no longer felt much of anything. Well, he felt a distant twinge, but it hardly registered as important. He couldn't tell where he was, but at least that damned snake wasn't nearby. No one was, really. He had a vague memory of Potter's green eyes. The boy was… frightened? He couldn't remember why that might have been.

He felt comfortable. Serene. Had he ever felt this way before? He didn't think so. There was a bed in the dimly lit room. (He was in a room? He couldn't even remember getting there.) He felt so tired from all those years of stress and anxiety. He laid down in the soft bedding without even asking himself where it had all come from. He quickly fell asleep and felt himself drift into a dream.

In the dream, all was silent. The air was warm, but not unpleasantly so. A small light drew near to him. There was someone coming, but they were eclipsed by the lamplight before them.

"Severus," came the whisper.

He knew the voice, but couldn't place it.

"Severus, my boy." The voice was slightly louder, clearer. The lamp was lowered, revealing the face and impressive beard of… Albus Dumbledore.

"Leave me alone, Albus. I'm tired," he groused.

"I came to tell you that it's over now. We won."

"What's over?"

"The war. I was wrong, though. Harry didn't die."

Severus sat up and blinked, staring at the old wizard.

"You're dead, you bloody meddler. All I want is a moment's peace and here you are interrupting my sleep."

"Am I? How careless of me. I find no need for sleep here."

"Here? Where am I?"

There was a familiar twinkle in the ancient wizard's eyes and then he disappeared.

Severus rubbed his forehead, sure that either he was going mad or worse. With a groan he laid back down and fell back asleep.

He had no idea how long he was there in the dark, but there were voices that awakened him. Voices that belonged to faces that he couldn't see, that spoke about him as if something had happened. _Had_ something happened? Impossible. He was in bed. He groped about in the dark for his wand, but couldn't seem to locate it. Funny, he never was without one just next to the bed. Well, he could sometimes, in a pinch, do things wandlessly just as well.

"Lumos," he whispered.

The room was instantly flooded with light and he was forced to shut his eyes to protect them from the sudden brightness. When he slowly reopened them, he saw that everything in the room was white. The walls, the bed, the quilt, the wooden floor. He was still robed in deepest black, which was the only comforting thing, because as he cast his eyes about, he could see neither door nor window in the room. Not even the tiniest crack in the façade.

He slowly put one foot down to the floor. It seemed solid. He stood and walked to the wall opposite the bed. The place which the light had come from before in his dream. The wall was solid, as if it were made of stone. What the — ? He tried the other walls, but they were all the same. He tried several spells, hoping to reveal a hidden doorway, but to no avail. He could hear the voices again as they echoed against the walls, but there was no one. He cried out, but no one answered.

"Just let him rest," said one voice. "It will be the first lie in he's had in years."

He scoffed, but then conceded whoever it was had a point. He hadn't really rested since Voldemort decided that the Potters…

That's right. James and Lily had died. What had Dumbledore said? Harry didn't? Well, of course he didn't. That was why he had to teach the little-

He paused again in his thoughts. No, Harry wasn't a small child anymore. In fact, Harry was out hunting Horcruxes. Dumbledore had sent him out to finish what he himself had failed doing. He tried desperately to remember what else the old codger had said. They'd won? Does that mean the war is over? If so, why was he here? Why wasn't he being rounded up and sent to the Ministry?

What had Dumbledore said about "here"? He didn't feel the need to sleep. Dumbledore was dead. He'd been dead for nearly two years. So did that mean he was as well? Shouldn't he be experiencing a bit more than a white room from which there is no escape? Or was this his punishment for becoming a Death Eater in the first place?

The voices faded and he felt tired again. Perhaps just a little rest was all he needed.

* * *

**22 May 1998**

The past weeks had been an emotional rollercoaster. There were parties and executions, funerals and sighs of relief. Hermione felt as if she were on the edge of a precipice. The war was over, but the consequences were disastrous. Many precious lives were lost. She still hadn't time to go find her parents and see if their memories could be restored. And she had no idea if her efforts to help save Snape were in vain. Harry went to check on him now and again and he offered to take Hermione along with, but she politely declined each time. Hermione would simply smile and ask polite questions when he returned. When Harry came back from a visit the day before, he reported that the wizard was still stable, but unresponsive. He was hopeful he'd come around any day now. In some ways it was almost comical the turnaround Harry was showing regarding Snape. The man he'd spent the last several years ranting about was suddenly his favorite hero of the day.

In another odd turn of events, she and Harry had come forward and said they would testify on behalf of the Malfoys and were working together with their lawyer. The trials would begin the following week. It seemed a bit strange, defending the people who had seemed bent on making her life as miserable as possible until their own safety was called into question. But it also felt right.

She'd been staying at Grimmauld Place with Harry, helping him slowly clean things out of the house, seeking a sort of catharsis that might come of getting rid of anything that screamed of the maniacs who once dominated the house. Sometimes literally, including Walburga Black's portrait which they had an artist who dealt with difficult portraits paint over, putting Sirius in her place. It made for a more welcome, friendlier greeting.

Hermione was cleaning up from breakfast when Ron popped out of the floo, another perk of no longer being at war. Unfortunately for her, Ron had just heard the news about the Malfoy trials, which the she and Harry had been keeping from him.

"Oi, 'Mione," he started as he walked into the kitchen, "I just don't get why you're standing up for that bloody awful family," Ron started for what felt like the tenth time that week.

"Good morning yourself, Ron."

"Right, good morning," he replied tersely.

"Harry is, too, you know. Testifying."

"Yeh, but Narcissa saved him. Of course he's going to feel like he should."

"They didn't even fight in the end."

"Because they're filthy cowards who can't pick a side and stick to it. And don't forget about what happened in the Room of Requirement."

"You know I haven't, Ron. Look, I know you can't stand them. And I was tortured _in their house_ , for Godric's sake. But they weren't the ones at fault. In fact… it felt like they were being punished, too. I mean, their house was infested with the most evil wizards in the country, maybe the whole world. If you'd have seen Malfoy's face…" Her voice drifted off, strained.

"I've seen his pointy ferret face enough in my lifetime. I hope I never have to again."

"Ronald!"

"Well, it's true. And you don't owe them a bloody thing."

"I don't. But I want to do this."

"Don't expect any good to come of it. Dark wizards don't change, Hermione."

Ron stormed away, irritated. She heard the sound of the floo roaring to life and then growing quiet again. With a sigh, she put the tin of tea back in the cupboard and decided that she needed to go down the hall to the library to think and do some research.

* * *

**30 May 1998**

Severus Snape woke up that afternoon in a lonely room, unable to move anything but his eyes as he took in a makeshift hospital judging from both the bed he was in and the various potion bottles and medical instruments next to him. A moment later, Minerva McGonagall breezed through the door, gasped, and rushed off once more. Not a minute later, a worried Poppy Pomfrey bustled in, Minerva just behind her.

"You're awake!" she squawked.

In an excruciating effort, Severus slowly opened his mouth and tried to say something, but his tongue felt like it was made of wool. The most he got out was a strange grating sort of noise.

"Don't try to talk," the overexcited matron said as she busied herself about, casting diagnostic charms and a rather uncomfortable (for Severus) examination of his neck. "Well the good news is that it's all healing up quite well and it seems that the poison has completely left your system. The bad news is that you've been in a coma for four weeks and your vocal chords are still healing. It may be a few weeks yet before you'll be able to talk and eat normally. Not to worry, I expect you'll make a full recovery in time for fall term."

He must have made a confused look, though he wasn't sure that his eyebrows were even working correctly.

"Someone got to you in time. We had to pump you full of anti-venom, blood replenisher, and some potions to stabilise you because your systems were already beginning to shut down one by one."

He still looked at her strangely and cast a glance over to Minerva who had been wringing her hands in a nearby chair. The older witch spoke up.

"It's all over, you know. He's gone for good. We'll talk about employment once you're feeling better, but in the meantime I'm just glad that you're… finally on the mend. It was rather touch-and-go the first week."

She looked overwrought, he thought. Tired.

"Get some rest, my boy, and if you need anything, just press the little button on the side of your bed and someone will come right away." She rose from her chair and stepped toward him, a small smile on her face as she patted his arm. "Take all the time you need to heal. If anyone deserves some rest and quiet, it's you, Severus." She smiled again and walked away with Poppy who was talking with her frantically in a low voice.

He'd been out for _four_ weeks. Some do-gooder evidently pulled him from the Shack and saved his worthless hide. He was surprised to be alive at all and was trying to sift through the strange emotions that tugged at him. If Voldemort was actually gone, that would mean that he was finally free. Free to live his life without anyone peering over his shoulder. Free to simply.. live. What an odd notion after all this time. He thought he'd never see the day. He glanced down at his left arm and saw that the cursed stain on his skin remained but it was certainly a lighter shade of grey than it had ever been.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2 will be posted August 8.


	2. Trials and Joys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Death Eater Trials, Severus goes a lighter shade of pale, and Hermione goes to Australia.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I own nothing pertaining to Harry Potter and the wizarding world and earn nothing from writing this bit of fiction.
> 
> Thanks for reading!

**5 June 1998**

Draco Malfoy woke up in his cell, hair stiff and skin itching from want of a shower. Every day was something of a nightmare, though it was admittedly tame compared to having Voldemort living in your house. The guards were cold, but not evil. He was losing track of the days, but it hardly seem to matter. In any case, today was the day for him. He threw up bile in the corner of his cell.

The trials had been ticking on for days as one Death Eater after another was sent to Azkaban or sentenced to death, emptying out the suddenly crowded cells beneath the Ministry. Dolohov, _check_. Greyback, _check._ Jugson _, check._ Macnair, _check_. The Malfoy family was required to stand trial with the rest. On the 30th of May, as Severus Snape was waking for the first time in a month in his own prison, Narcissa Malfoy was ruled to be placed under house arrest for the following year with two years probation after. Lucius Malfoy's trial ended on the 2nd of June. He was sent to Azkaban for ten months with the possibility of parole after six. That would be followed by another six months of house arrest and two years probation. Draco had gotten the news from a guard that seem to pity him enough to keep him updated. He made note of the wizard's name, planning on giving him an official thanks later.

He was recently told that Gregory Goyle had been convicted and sent to ten years in Azkaban. Unfortunately for Goyle, the eyewitnesses summoned merely pointed out his brutish cruelty that had become more pronounced under Umbridge and peaked under the Carrows' guiding hands. The fact that his father was well-known for his brutality and they both fought for Voldemort to the bitter end during the Battle of Hogwarts didn't help his case. Goyle Sr had received the death sentence only the day before his own son's trial.

Draco's own trial had begun early in the morning on 3rd of June and he had never felt more alone. It was nerve-wracking, watching his future flash before his eyes throughout the long day in court. The one bright bit of hope for Draco was the fact that he was not viewed as a willing participant. His father was judged to have done certain things under duress, hoping to save his family from a madman. His mother, because she'd lied about Potter, got the lightest sentence issued to date. As for himself, it was revealed by Potter and Granger that he'd refused to reveal Harry's identity when they'd gotten captured, that he did not participate in their abuse, and that the Golden Trio saved _him_ from the burning Room of Requirement, after which his goal was to find his parents and get away. The two of them had also observed that he had grown withdrawn after his father was arrested at the end of Fifth Year and he himself was forced to take the Mark. It seemed that the passionate pleas by Potter and Granger that he was merely a pawn in a madman's game seemed to have rattled the Wizengamot. Presented with the fact that there was never anything remotely close to friendship between Draco and his "heroic" classmates and yet they'd come to his defence.. well apparently it counted for more than Draco could have ever hoped.

And that was how, after a third excruciatingly long day in court, Draco found himself going back home on his eighteenth birthday with only two year's probation. In fact he hadn't even realised it was his birthday. It was his lawyer who made mention of it as they parted. His hair was a mess, he was in dire need of a shave, and his clothing and robes that he'd been allowed to change back into just before his release were still stained and tattered from the battle. A couple of aurors escorted him directly home and into the waiting arms of his worried mother. She waited until the other wizards were gone before fawning over him.

"Oh, my dear, sweet boy," she sobbed, pulling him into her arms, "I was afraid they would lock you away, too." There was no need to explain further. Having Lucius wrenched away with barely a goodbye was already unbearable for the witch.

"It's alright, mother. I'm home now."

She nodded stiffly as she looked him over once more.

"Would you like to freshen up and then we'll have some tea?"

With a weary nod, Draco plodded up the stairs to scrub away the weeks of sweat and grime. He'd only been permitted a brief cold shower on the days he was required to appear in court with nothing but a tiny bar of soap. The warm pleasant water cascaded around him while he slowly attempted to wash away every trace of the last few years, but the dark stain on his arm continued to glare back at him defiantly, daring him to even try to forget. When he emerged forty-five minutes later, in pressed slacks and a polo shirt in spite of the late house, and he felt almost like a new man. Almost. He slipped on a comfortable pair of loafers and made his way back to the room where his mother was waiting.

"Bitty," she called out as he reappeared.

An small elf wearing a polka dot apron popped into view only a second later.

"Yes, Mistress? You be calling?"

"Yes, Bitty. We're ready for our tea now."

"Right away, Mistress."

A few minutes later, the elf returned to the now seated witch and wizard. Narcissa poured their tea, adding a lump of sugar and splash of milk for Draco and handed him the cup.

"So," she began calmly, "two years probation. How did that come about?"

Draco took his time as he savoured the hot beverage, explaining how Potter and Granger had surprisingly come to his defence and how he was sure that was the only thing that prevented a sentence similar to his father's, if not worse. He could feel his mother's pitying gaze drift to his arm from time to time, but he decided that it wasn't worth snapping at her for.

"Yes, Mr. Potter did the same for me. He spoke at your father's as well, but a prior prison term and his known offences prevented any extravagant leniency."

"Less than a year of prison seems rather lenient considering."

"Do you want your father to waste away in Azkaban?"

"No, mother. Simply making a remark."

"Perhaps we were wrong about Mr. Potter."

"It's hardly like we were friendly."

"You weren't exactly the warmest child, Draco. Don't be obtuse."

"I was exactly who I was raised to be."

"Yes, well.. your father and I have made some regrettable mistakes. But you're young. And you've been given a second chance." She paused and smiled as she pulled out a small gift from behind a cushion.

"Happy birthday, Draco."

He attempted to smile back and accepted the beautifully wrapped box. Even the ribbon felt like pure silk. It probably was. When he had untied the ribbon and gently took off the paper, he opened the box where nestled inside was a set of cufflinks, one with the Malfoy crest, the second with the Black family crest.

He felt intensely curious all of a sudden, but merely gave his mother a small smile. "Thank you. They're quite nice."

"These are nothing ordinary. They will help you channel our family magic. We missed the opportunity to give them to you on your last birthday when you came of age, but now you'll be able to tap into a stronger magic than you know. I suggest that you spend some of your summer going through your grandfathers' journals since your father isn't here to explain the Malfoy magic. I have some notes of my own for the Black family, but perhaps we can see if Mr. Potter would be amenable to letting you go through what's left of my family's library in hopes that there would be something else of use. I'll have one of the elves leave what I have already on your desk, shall I?"

"Yes, thank you, mother," he replied in his best disaffected voice, his face a mask of calm.

What in Merlin's name could that be all about? He willed himself to chat with his mother on how she planned to redecorate the house as he only half listened. He'd already decided against asking Potter for now, mainly because he didn't feel like explaining why he'd want access to the library. Tomorrow, though, he could begin in earnest.

* * *

**10 June 1998**

The Wizengamot had sagely decided to hold a closed trial for one Severus Snape, as opposed to how the other Death Eaters' trials were handled. No media circus, no crowding public. Even the eyewitnesses were called in one at a time and not permitted to stay once they'd given their testimony. It lasted two full weeks, much longer than the others which were considered mostly open and shut cases, though admittedly it was still rather short for a person of interest such as Snape. As it was, they had put off the whole mess until he had finally come out of his coma and showed some promising signs of recovery. They'd hitherto seen no point in wasting such effort on a nearly dead wizard.

Harry Potter had submitted the memories that Snape had willingly provided him, thinking death was imminent, and with the testimony of other Order members (who mostly spoke unabashedly about their uncertainty as to which side he was on) and the personal confirmation of Mr. Potter himself pertaining certain actions of his least favourite professor, the council found themselves in a quandary. Here was a man who had effectively spied on Voldemort, nearly gave his life for the Order, and yet permitted heinous acts to be committed while Headmaster of the school. It was unprecedented and left many on edge. Happily for them, Minerva McGonagall managed to provide the missing piece to the puzzle.

"Esteemed witches and wizards of the Wizengamot, I believe that you are likely left with the frustrating decision of what is to be made of a man such as Severus Snape. A man who undoubtably performed heroic deeds and yet made many enemies on both sides along the way. I admit that he has not always been the easiest to work with and you already know how many of us attempted to push back against his authority at the school this past year. I understand now that it was to protect his place in Voldemort's circle and that he did his level best to protect the students from worse fates. However. Reinstating him as Headmaster is bound to cause problems and yet... refusing to admit his selfless acts is likewise wrong. Thus on behalf of Hogwarts, I propose the following:

"Allow him to return to his post as Potions Professor. Find a way to recognise his great sacrifice to the wizarding world at large. And elect someone else to be Headmaster of the school who will prove a less contentious candidate."

After several days of deliberation, on the morning of 24th of June it was decided that Snape would be acquitted and instead offered a Order of Merlin, First Class. A unanimous vote proposed to the Board of Governors of the school to elect Minerva McGongall as Headmistress and a reinstatement of Snape as Potions professor. The Governors met that very afternoon and agreed to the court's suggestions, desperate to save the school's reputation and eager to put something in place before the press got wind of anything. With the school's blessing, a special press conference was held that evening at the Ministry and by the next morning the announcement was in the paper, to the surprise of many who didn't know he was on trial or even alive for that matter.

* * *

**25 June 1998**

Severus was sitting up eating a light breakfast when an owl brought him the Daily Prophet. He paid the owl and opened it up.. and nearly fell out of his hospital bed. Thank Merlin for bed rails. There, on the front page, was the stuff of nightmares:

_War Heroes to be Rewarded in Special Ceremony_

He began to feverishly read the article that casually dropped his name alongside those of the Golden Trio when another owl came in and dropped a letter in his lap before flying off, not even stopping to land. He picked it up and turned it over to see the Ministry seal. Could it be true?

He frantically opened the envelope and unfolded the letter:

_His Honor the Minister for Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt, does hereby invite you to a special ceremony on the 10th of July to bestow upon you, Severus Tobias Snape, the Order of Merlin, First Class for services rendered for your country. Please be prepared to give a small speech._

Severus went a lighter shade of pale, the letter shaking in his hand. He threw it down on the table and went back to the Prophet. Merlin's beard, he was going to have to face not only ridiculous Ministry people but also those... well, he couldn't really call them dunderheads after all. Pains in his rear, though, yes. Absolutely. He could think of worse punishments and had already lived through some of them, but he hardly felt ready, or compelled for that matter, to deal with the masses.

On page 2 there was an exclusive entitled "Spy Scoop: Severus Snape". He gritted his teeth at the horrid alliteration. Potter must have blabbed to someone because there it was, his life printed there in black and white for all to read. He felt ill as he read it. Page 3 was about the reparations underway at Hogwarts, complete with photographs of the damage and the rest of the paper was about other goings on that he couldn't be bothered to read. He already had a headache.

Which was just when Minerva McGonagall bounded into the room, if ever an elderly witch could be said to "bound" into anywhere.

"I'm sure you've gotten your letter by now?"

He grunted and flung the letter at her.

"How wonderful! You're finally getting something good out of all those years."

"Not that you bloody well believed me toward the end."

"Well, you know, you _were_ rather convincing."

"Better to convince Voldemort and not die sooner. As it was, he tried anyway."

"Yes, well, I'm sorry about all that, Severus. Order of Merlin, though! You must be so pleased."

"Pleased to go and shake every accursed hand while enduring trite remarks," he groaned and rolled his eyes.

"At least you won't be alone," she replied cheerily.

"Right, I get to bask in the glow of the Boy-Who-Lived and his lackeys with everyone else."

"Don't you think you're being a bit unkind? The boy has done nothing but sing your praises these last few weeks."

"Well, he's obviously tone deaf and I certainly don't need his accolades."

"I think you'll find the three of them less irritating at least."

"That remains to be seen."

"That reminds me, we need to discuss your continued employment at Hogwarts."

* * *

**27 June 1998**

With Snape's trial over at last, Hermione felt that it was time for her to try to find her parents. In Australia. She had already sent out some inquiries with the Australian Ministry that gave her a few promising leads. She knew she only had a week, so her only goal was to locate them and set out finding a way to help them once she was afforded more time. Her portkey left the evening after the news about Snape hit the papers, her only luggage a small suitcase that she had charmed to shrink down everything she placed inside.

She was thankful to have arrived in an empty lot behind some shrubs because she immediately retched upon landing. She still didn't do so well with magical travel and a long-distance portkey was already not for the faint of heart. She slowly stood back up, cleaned up the mess, and walked toward the buildings just ahead. She wasn't certain where she landed, but she did request a location as close to the first lead as possible, in a small suburb of Sydney.

As she took in her surroundings, she immediately searched for a street sign or notable landmark. She read the nearest one as she walked out to the sidewalk and saw that she was on one of the main thoroughfares in town. It was already late when she checked into her hotel and decided she'd be better off finding dinner first and looking up the dental practice that night.

* * *

**28 June 1998**

Hermione traversed the town until she found the right road, thankful for the lovely hotel worker who gave her directions that morning. She looked for a building number to know which way to head and after about twenty minutes found herself walking toward a building bearing the name "Wilkins Dental". Pulling her courage tightly around her, she opened the door.

Behind the desk sat a woman that she didn't recognise, but decided to not let it deter her.

"Excuse me, is Dr. Wilkins in?"

"Yes, They're both currently with a patient, but one of them will be out in shortly. Do you have an appointment?"

"Ah… no," she faltered, but only for a moment. "But I'm a former patient of his and was hoping I could have some advice with a problem I'm having with a wisdom tooth."

"Name, please?"

"Hermione Jean."

"Very well, Miss Jean. If you can wait in one of the chairs, I'll let him know you're here."

"Thank you," she chirped and sat in a black padded chair. The table next to her was piled high with magazines which she began flicking through, more out of nervousness than anything else. Australia Geographic was fairly interesting and the photography was brilliant as always, but she soon went to the next in the stack, Women's Day. It was a wedding issue which was a bit uncomfortable to think about at present, so she set it aside as she also did with Inside Sport which didn't interest her in the slightest. She tried to immerse herself with Quarterly Essay, but she was so out of touch with what was going on elsewhere in the world that most of it was just words on paper.

At last the door by the front desk opened and a man she didn't recognise walked out toward her. Disappointment flooded her and she made to rise and at least pretend. But he continued on to the front door and left. Moments later, the inner door opened again and revealed a bearded man that looked remarkably like… her father.

"Miss Jean?" he called, his rich baritone washing over her, nearly bringing tears to her eyes.

"Dr. Wilkins," she smiled and rose to shake his hand.

"I'm afraid I don't recognise your name and I couldn't find any previous records. Are you sure that you're a patient of mine."

"Undoubtably, sir. Back when you had a practice in England."

"Ah, that explains it. I handed all my patients over to someone else when we moved. So what brings you to the other side of the world?"

"I'm here for work just for the week, but when I began to have a problem, I contacted your old office and they told me I could find you here."

"How efficient," he beamed. "How are things back there, then?"

"Never better, sir."

"Good to hear. I have a few minutes until my next patient should arrive, so why don't you come back with me and I can take a look at that tooth."

On the way back to the room, she overheard her mother's voice from behind another closed door. She felt like she'd drank Felix Felicis. It hardly seemed possible! She lay back in the inclined chair and let her father pull the light over her mouth as he pressed a gloved finger against her teeth.

"Hmmm, I don't see any cause for alarm. In fact, your teeth seem to be in perfect health. Are you sure it was tooth pain and not something else?"

She made a noise of uncertainty as he withdrew his finger and pressed the button to make the chair upright once more.

"It's funny, though. I don't remember your name, but your teeth seem oddly familiar."

"We, er, were neighbors, sir. You were my dentist since my first teeth arrived." Merlin, this was uncomfortable. But she didn't really know how to proceed now that she'd found them. She didn't want to cause further damage by trying to undo the memory charm by herself.

"Are you in town long?"

"Just until tomorrow. I travel to Hong Kong next."

"Allow me to talk to the other Dr. Wilkins. I'll be right back."

She heard low voices in the hallway, but he'd closed the door behind him, leaving her in the chair. The door reopened.

"Miss Jean, would you like to join us for dinner this evening? We'd love to hear how things are in the old neighborhood. We consider going back every now and again, but have grown rather attached to our people here. What say you?"

"I'd be delighted."

"Very well. Seven pm. I'll have the secretary give you the address."

She smiled and nodded, all the while feeling much like when she was about to go to Hogsmeade for the first time.

When the woman at the desk gave her the address, she smiled and practically skipped out the door. She had their address! She had their address! They… still didn't know who she was. Would they be angry? Would they disown her? She stuffed her worries deep down as she scuttled off to find the nearest wizard community to send an owl to the Australian Ministry.

Owl successfully sent, she spent the afternoon in the small wizarding neighborhood, perusing the book shop (and leaving with only a modest stack of four books), and then looking for gifts for her friends. She found some sweets that she'd never seen before to share between them, a couple of action figures from the Australian Quidditch team for Harry and Ron, and a set of magical postcards for Ginny. She even contemplated a "get well" gift for Snape, but had no idea what would be acceptable. She settled on a silly miniature desktop cauldron that doubled as an inkwell. Placing her purchases in her beaded bag, she checked the address again on the slip of paper that had been stuffed into the front right pocket of her jeans. She used to her wand to cast a directional spell that would be invisible to others and headed off to face her fears once more.

* * *

That night, as she was dropped off at her hotel - they'd refused to let her walk back alone and insisted on driving her - her heart was full in a way it hadn't been for ages. Dinner was an absolute delight. She'd had to pretend to have never had her mom's favorite chicken dish and that she'd never heard their classic dental jokes that had somehow seemed less funny as she'd gotten older. She learned about their new life, their regrets of never having a child, and what they missed about England. It had been difficult, certainly. But being at the dinner table with them once more, chatting easily about this and that, was one step closer to having them back. She could only hope that she hadn't done irreversible damage. She planned to take an early portkey back to the England in the morning and hoped that the Australian Ministry would be able to help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 3 will arrive on August 15.


	3. Surprises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Severus is left to sift through some uncomfortable thoughts and feelings, the Eighth Year students get their letters, and the professors have a meeting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I own nothing pertaining to Harry Potter and the wizarding world and earn nothing from writing this bit of fiction.
> 
> Thanks for reading!

**10 July 1998**

He couldn't believe he had let Minerva talk him into not only staying on at Hogwarts, but resuming his post as Potions Professor. More years filled with dunderheads. His only real victory was the decision to no longer be the Head of a house. He'd had enough politicking for a lifetime and he'd just as soon move far far away. But she had asked so nicely and also reminded him of his debt toward his mysterious saviour who requested that he remain at Hogwarts. Why, he hadn't the faintest idea.

The speeches were mercifully short though he thought that at least one person would break down into tears. When no one did, he was mildly disappointed. His own speech was uncomfortable, everyone staring back at him, emotions writ plainly on their faces: revulsion, confusion, curiosity, skepticism. Very few seemed glad to see him and had he been permitted he would have instantly reminded them that the feeling was most definitely mutual.

Relief seeped into his bones the moment that Kingsley told him that he could finally leave now that the ceremony was over. He congratulated himself for dodging the press thusfar and avoiding any real conversation with the people bold enough to attempt to approach him save Arthur Weasley, whose boldness, he felt, at least warranted an effort.

"Good to have you back with us, Severus. Dreadful thing to heal from, innit?"

"Quite."

"I don't know how you did it all those years, living under his thumb. But apologies are in order for any unkind thing my family might have said."

"Apology accepted. And how is everyone doing?"

"It's still hard, of course. Molly is still angry and George is a shadow of himself. I think in time we will be alright, but.." His voice trailed off as he shrugged, eyes glassy with the tears he doesn't permit to escape.

Severus did something uncharacteristic just then. He reached out and rested his hand on Arthur's shoulder. The man started at the gesture, but gave a tired smile. The moment passed and the dark-haired wizard resumed his usual unaffected mien. Arthur gave him a nod and wandered back toward his family who were crowded around Ron.

The ministry event, he had to admit to himself later, wasn't quite the ordeal that it could have been and he considered that he got off lightly in the end. Most people were still too intimidated to speak him which suited him just fine, preferring to crowd around the young heroes of the day. The three of them sometimes gave him glances from across the room and Miss Granger had the audacity to actually smile at him once when she caught his eye, but he flared his nostrils and looked away. She really was insufferable. He hoped in vain that she was not among the students returning, but somehow he knew that she would be. He wondered for a moment if she even knew how to operate outside of a classroom when he remembered that she had actually missed most of the last year, gallivanting through the countryside looking for horcruxes and hiding from Snatchers. Perhaps he was being a bit unfair. It didn't merit a smile on his behalf, though.

He apparated back to Hogwarts that night as Poppy had insisted that he stay for the summer while she continued to monitor his health. The fact that he could apparate within the grounds at all was a small mercy granted from being a former Headmaster. In fact, he was the only former Headmaster that was still alive. He tried not to think about that too hard and was simply thankful to be free of Dumbledore's portrait this year. He avoided that office like the plague and perhaps Minerva understood since she hadn't yet coerced him into making an appearance there.

Which brought his thoughts back around to the one thing that had been gnawing at him for weeks now: who was responsible for saving him? Surely a life debt had been accrued and he wanted to know who was going to cash in. He doubted that it was Potter, though his was the last face he remembered seeing before being swallowed by darkness. He had a vague memory of a frantic voice, but couldn't seem to match it up with anyone. Minerva flat out refused to tell him who it was, swearing that she'd taken a Vow and thus could not. Did that mean that he didn't owe anyone? He doubted it. He was doomed to live under obligation to someone else. First Voldemort, then Dumbledore and Narcissa, and now.. who? Who would make an Unbreakable Vow to hide the fact that they'd saved him?

* * *

Hermione had felt awkward standing around Professor Snape and having nothing useful to say. She reasoned that he probably didn't mind. She had given him a small smile earlier in the evening, but he'd given her such a look that she was forced to turn away. She thought of that silly gift she'd bought for him that was still sitting on her desk. She had thought of bringing it that night, but found it awkward in the end and now she was glad that she'd left it. Perhaps another day.

* * *

**15 July 1998**

Hermione was with Harry eating breakfast at Grimmauld Place when a owl flew in through the kitchen window, depositing a pair of letters on the table and demanding a bit of their toast before departing. Hermione grabbed them first and immediately noticed the seal on them.

"Harry, they're from Hogwarts! Here, there's one for each of us. Funny how they always know where to find us."

Harry yawned and took the envelope addressed to him. They both read in silence. That is to say, Hermione read her letter quickly and then waited for Harry to finish his own, barely containing herself.

_'Dear Ms. Granger,_

_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry is pleased to invite you to return for a final year in preparation for your N.E.W.T.s._

_All returning Eighth Year students will be required to arrive on 8th August at 6pm. You'll be assisting with the ongoing repairs to the castle and grounds in the weeks before the other students arrive and term begins. Be advised that some other changes have been made that will strictly effect the Eighth Years which will be revealed upon arrival._

_Please reply by owl if you plan on returning for this school year._

_Deputy Headmaster,_

_Filius Flitwick'_

Harry folded up his own parchment with a ""humph" and Hermione took this as her cue.

"Harry, we can go back! We can take our N.E.W.T.s!"

"Hermione, I already told you that Ron and I have been accepted for Auror training."

"Wouldn't you want to finish your schooling first?"

"Honestly, Hermione… not really."

Hermione sighed, disappointed, but not surprised.

"You're going to, though, aren't you?" Harry's green eyes sparkled as he looked at his best friend. "You'll do amazing, Hermione."

"You really think so?"

"Yeah, you'll be the best in our year. And then you'll be free to take any job you'd like."

"I hardly know what I want to do!"

"Knowing you, you're going to take more classes than is humanly possible anyway."

"And you know that Ron isn't going to pass up a chance to skive off another year of school."

Hermione snorted, but smiled.

"Yeah, you're right. He's probably sighing with relief that his mum won't be able to make him go."

* * *

Draco Malfoy yawned as he padded into sitting room at Malfoy Manor where he found Narcissa scrutinising the outside of a letter.

"Draco, an owl came for you."

"Who from?"

"Hogwarts."

His eyebrows shot up. What could that possibly mean?

"Let's see it then," he sighed and flicked open the letter, expecting something particularly nasty.

"Well?" his mother asked a moment later.

"I've… I've been invited to go back. As a student."

"Let me see." She plucked the parchment gingerly from his grasp. She quickly read the short letter and gasped. "This, Draco. This is perfect."

"Being in a place where everyone knows everything about me or at least thinks they do? I'll give it a miss."

"No, Draco. This is your chance to prove yourself. To rise above."

"I'll think about it."

"I'll make sure that the elves will have your trunk ready."

He made a noncommittal noise as he took the letter back from her and walked to his study as he read the letter once more. It hardly seemed possible. He was on probation, which he supposed didn't necessarily exclude schooling, but it seemed like a risk to put him back _there_ again. But he did received a letter and it seemed legitimate. He wondered who else would be returning. He knew Blaise wasn't. The wizard had somehow convinced Madame Rosmerta to train him in the fine art of running a pub - he didn't bother asking how that came about. He wasn't ready to know. Maybe Theo? He'd send an owl later to find out.

He carefully placed the letter to the side as he pulled out a roll of parchment he'd been making some notes on. It seemed that the for the most part, his family magic mostly amounted to property wards like all great families (how unimaginative) and there was a small mention of something to help ensure an heir, but there in his grandfather's journal, in an entry written near the end of his life, was something that he found far more interesting. Words in crabbed writing adorned one of the margins as if in afterthought:

_'Our choices that bind, our past the key.'_

And at the end of the very last entry:

' _καθαρός_ ' and ' _il faut en repenser'_

At last, a puzzle worth solving.

* * *

**31 July 1998**

Between trials and funerals, emotions had been running high for the Order members, but that didn't stop plans for a special surprise party for Harry. He and Ron were about to enter the training programme to become aurors in a time when they had possibly more field experience than many of their superiors and when the Ministry itself was decimated from the war.

That night various friends were gathered at Andromeda Tonks's house to surprise him when he thought to be arriving just for a simple dinner. He knocked at the door and everyone held their breath as Andromeda greeted him with a kiss on the cheek and a very happy Teddy squealed in her arms.

"Surprise! Surprise!" he heard in shouts from all corners of the room as he stepped in and looked around to see so many familiar faces smiling at him. The Weasleys were there, of course, with Fleur, as was Hermione, Neville, Luna, Hagrid, McGonagall, Mrs. Figg, and a handful of other witches and wizards. Even the Dursleys were stuffed into a corner looking extremely uncomfortable.

He grinned stupidly for a moment as he took it all in.

"Thanks, everyone!"

It felt strange to be smiling and celebrating, but they all needed it.

There were many handshakes, back slaps, hugs, and the occasional awkward motherly kisses from some of the older witches present. The Dursleys made a weird sort of apology and only stayed a grand total of 20 minutes after he'd arrived, but the fact that they'd come at all was a sort of small olive branch.

It turned out that McGonagall and Mrs. Figg had paid them a visit at the end of the war which had them at the very least mildly reconsider some of their own prejudices and when Andromeda came by with an invitation, they found that any sort of refusal would be to their own detriment. Before Harry arrived, Arthur had apparently attempted to make small talk with Vernon in inquiring about the telly across the room (Andromeda had a rather muggle house after all) but it had only made the mustachioed man flustered that someone would actually NOT know about television. Dudley was all too glad to show off which led to each of them explaining things in rapid fire such as nightly news, the weather channel, and current popular shows. Aunt Petunia watched the exchange warily, as if afraid Arthur was about to put them under a spell because who actually doesn't know about telly by now? When Harry heard about it later from the others, he laughed until his sides hurt.

All in all the evening was a balm for healing hearts and a fitting turning point after such a momentous year. The next week saw he and Ron appearing at the Ministry for their first day of training while Hermione packed her school trunk one last time. It would be her first time apparating to Hogsmeade without fear of snatchers, but her hands shook slightly as she went through her things, magically guiding them in the waiting trunk.

* * *

**7 August 1998**

The faculty meeting was about to begin and there was whispering in the room when Severus Snape crossed the threshold. He held his head high and ignored it.

"If everyone will please settle down," announced the Headmistress. "I have a few brief announcements now that you all have arrived. Our returning Eighth Year students will be arriving tomorrow and will no longer be sorted by houses. They will have their own common room for their use alone and each will receive a private chamber. As they are all adults now, we would like to treat them as such though they will be required to keep to most of the school rules and work hard as they prepare for the N.E.W.T.s that they were unable to take last year.

"The Great Hall will be under repairs for the month and as such, I've had the elves set up a dining room for faculty and staff in the room next to where the returning Eighth Year students will be dining until the repairs are completed. Some of you already are aware that you'll be needed to oversee students who will be tasked with various reparations as we prepare the castle for the rest of the student body who will be arriving in a few weeks.

"As you can see, there are several changes amongst the professors this year. Firenze is good enough to rejoin us as Divination Professor for the year as Sybil has officially retired. Horace has likewise returned to retirement and thus Severus is back with us as Potions Master, though he will be taking charge of the Eighth Years instead of Slytherin house. Aurora will be taking over the role of Head of Slytherin. Our new Head of Gryffindor will be Marco Fiore who will also be the new Muggle Studies professor. He apologises for the delay but assures me that he will be arriving next week. For now I would like to all give a warm welcome to our newest professor Holly Martinez from Ilvermorny."

She paused and gestured to the tanned witch in pale blue robes who was standing between Pomona and Filius. Severus had been wondering about the witch, having only heard her name in passing. He slyly studied her now, her dark hair falling just past her shoulders in large loose curls. He wondered if her teeth were incredibly white and straight like the other Americans he'd met. Her mouth was presently pressed into a fine line as if she were uncomfortable with the sudden attention.

"And as I am Headmistress this year, I'll have an assistant this year for my transfiguration classes, a semi-recent graduate from Beauxbatons, Philippe D'orleans, who will be joining us in two weeks time." She paused and fished an envelope from the pocket of her robe. "As for the Eighth Year students, I am requiring them to each have a member of the faculty as a mentor. You will not be their nanny and Severus as their head will ultimately be responsible for taking action should problems aside. However, I do expect them to receive adequate guidance in choosing their courses and career advice. For those of you who have been assigned a student," she unfolded the flap of the envelope, "I understand that some of you may have a... complicated history with them. But I humbly request that you make an effort with your student before requesting a change." She gave Severus a pointed look to which he snorted.

 _That bodes well_ , he thought.

She handed out papers to the nine others beside herself who would be serving as mentors for the year. Severus promptly pocketed his without even opening it to look.

"Tomorrow afternoon you'll be required to have a first meeting with your student. From there on, it will be up to you to schedule the others. If you have any further questions, feel free to come see me.

"You're dismissed then," she announced as she gave a small smile at the group.

After he returned to his new quarters, Severus settled into his favourite chair and poured himself a glass of firewhiskey from where it had been resting on the small table next to him. He took a drink before pulling out the piece of paper that surely spelled his doom for the year. He was glad that he had sat down his glass before he opened it. On the parchment there was the one name that he dreaded of all the returning students: Hermione Granger. What had he done to deserve _that?_ he wondered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll admit that this story is a bit slow going, so thank you to everyone who is hanging in there. To show my gratitude, I thought I'd post a day early and get one more up tomorrow!  
> 


	4. Apology Accepted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Eighth Years return to Hogwarts and get (re)acquainted with the professors

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I own nothing pertaining to Harry Potter and the wizarding world and earn nothing from writing this bit of fiction.
> 
> Thanks for reading!

* * *

**8 August 1998**

As the Eighth Year students began to arrive at Hogwarts, levitating their trunks to the entrance of the great castle, they were each greeted in turn by one of the elves who led them up two flights of stairs to wait outside of their new living quarters. To their great surprise, they learned they would have their own inter-house common room and private rooms. There was a small buzz of conversation that steadily grew as they all arrived. Hermione was first, followed by Hannah Abbot and Padma Patil, then Terry Boot, Ernie MacMillan and Mandy Brocklehurst. Neville Longbottom appeared soon after with Daphne Greengrass and Theo Nott just behind him. Several minutes later, Draco Malfoy ascended the staircase beside Minerva McGonagall. A few dark looks were cast his way as he came into view and he found himself grateful to the older witch's presence.

The ten returning students all accounted for, the Headmistress showed them how to open the cleverly hidden door. On the stone just below a portrait of a brown-robed witch, they had to trace the rune for "unity" which caused a magical doorway to appear just to the right. The large wooden door was then pushed open to let the students all through.

"Now I want you to understand," continued Headmistress McGonagall who had moved to the middle of the new common room as she continued explaining, "that while you are considered adults and thus have been given an unprecedented amount of trust, I strongly encourage you to conduct yourselves accordingly. If we hear of any quarreling, rowdy parties, or sneaking off campus without permission, you _will_ be sent home. There is ward over the doorway to your common room and no one aside from professors or your fellow classmates will be permitted to enter. Family members will be required permission to visit from your new head. I'm sure he doesn't need any introduction. Please come forward, Professor Snape."

Severus Snape stepped from the shadows into the center of the room. When he had come into the room, no one knew, so quiet the wizard was. A few students gasped and a small groan was heard. His black lanky hair was nearly the same as ever, though it seemed a bit more shiny, his wary gaze slightly more relaxed, and his scowl was a bit less pronounced.

"Welcome back to Hogwarts." He sounded as bored and irritated as ever as he looked over their oh-so-familiar faces. "I'm sure you are surprised by all this, as am I. I have agreed to return to my post as Potions professor, but did not care to be in charge of a house. As such, they have landed me with you lot as we are... well acquainted." He attempted a smile, but it was a painful sight to behold. Painful for his face as well. "Try not to disappoint me?"

The students began whispering among themselves, but Hermione shot her hand up.

"Yes, Miss Granger?" He nearly rolled his eyes.

"Will your office still be in the dungeons or..?" She hesitated and wondered if her question would seem impertinent.

He smirked, knowing exactly what she wished to know. "Yes, my office will continue to be in the dungeons. However, if you need me after hours, _which you should not_ , my quarters have been relocated to this wing. That being said, I will only come in _here_ when required. You will be free to live your little lives unencumbered by myself."

"Severus.." cut in McGonagall in a hushed tone.

"Minerva, it's hardly as if we need to suddenly go on pretense with these students," he responded quietly and very obviously rolled his eyes this time.

"What Professor Snape was trying to say," she shot him a cold look, "is that he expects you to be able to handle yourselves without needing his intervention. However, should a problem arise, he will make himself available to you. In addition, you will each be paired with a faculty member who will offer you career advice and guidance for which N.E.W.T.s will be necessary to attain. These assignments will be given after dinner tonight and you will have at least 2 meetings with your mentor before the other students begin to arrive. The rest of the time will be spent on reparations and getting the castle ready for the next term. Do you have any questions?"

Silence reigned and even Hermione had nothing to ask. With a raised eyebrow, the group was dismissed to settle into their new rooms, the female students on the right side of the room and the male students on the left. Dinner would be served that evening in a smaller room on the main floor previously used for storage.

Hermione quickly found her room which had "Granger" on a plate just above a door knocker shaped like a lion ("Of course" she murmured). The inside of the room, however, was clearly neutral. The typical four poster bed had sheer silver curtains with twinkling stars in silver and the palest of blues and her quilt was of the same pale blue. The rest of the linens were white, white towels hung on a small towel rack and behind the door hung a white bathrobe with a Hogwarts crest embroidered on it. She quickly unpacked her trunk, levitating her clothes into the armoire and books to the bookshelf that was built into one of the walls. It was a smallish room with just one large window to the right of the bed, but she found it comforting. She moved the soft rug to the side of her bed and then found that she was all set. Not one to waste time, she went back out to the common room and perused the space. It had a high vaulted ceiling, a large fireplace (that was not connected to the floo, she remembered McGonagall saying) beneath an even larger window, 4 small leather sofas - love seats from the look of them - centered around a large mahogany coffee table and a small kitchenette in one corner. She was looking through the cupboards near the sink when a voice suddenly made her jump.

"Find anything interesting, Granger?" Draco Malfoy's usual drawl was perhaps less of a sneer than it used to be, but to Hermione's ears it was just as grating.

"Well what do you know, Draco Malfoy has deigned to grace me with his presence."

"No need to get cheeky, Granger. I already told you that I'm sorry."

"I assumed that you were feeling ill that day."

"Well, I meant it." He lowered his voice. "Look, I don't want to keep a bloody war going that I didn't even want to be a part of. I admit that I was a right prat, but I figured that since you spoke at my trial.."

"Because I didn't think you should have went to prison. And I may have forgiven you, but-"

"You what?"

"You heard me, Malfoy. I'd already forgiven you. You were awful and made my life awful sometimes, but.. but I think you've lived through some things that are worse than what most people realise. When.. when I was at your house.."

He cut her off again. "Let's not talk about that."

Some other students walked past them and headed out the door. Theodore Nott gave her a questioning look that she ignored and turned her attention back to Malfoy.

"Right. Anyway, fine. You prove that you're no longer a git and I'll consider your apology as legitimate."

He smirked at her remark and changed the subject. "Nice that we have Uncle Sev, eh?"

"Don't remind me."

"He's a hero now, though. I thought you loved that stuff."

"It didn't seem to do anything for his personality."

Draco laughed at that. His silver eyes sparkled in a way she had never seen and for a split second she entertained the thought of wanting to see his eyes twinkle like that more often. She bit back her own grin.

"Who do you think you'll be paired with?"

"Uncle Sev, I guess. Who knows. Hopefully not someone who outright hates me."

"I think I'll be with McGonagall."

"Yeah, probably. You, er, want to go to dinner?"

"Oh gosh, is it time already?"

"Yeah, I think the others have gone."

"Right.. ok." She closed the cupboard and shrugged. "So.. why did you come back?"

"I can't believe you made it a whole hour before asking."

She made a face as he held the door open for her. She paused as he closed it behind them and he quickly rejoined her. _Did this mean they were friendly now?_ she wondered. Merlin, this is so weird.

"I needed to prove some things to myself and, contrary to what everyone thinks of me, I'd like to be able to have a respectable career."

"Doing what?"

"Not sure. It will depend on my N.E.W.T.s, won't it?"

"True."

"Well, I already know why you're back. A swot like you could hardly resist."

She smacked him in the arm which garnered an "ow!"

"If I'm such a swot, why bother talking to me?"

"I never said it was a bad thing. Besides, I'm going to get better scores this year than you. Just you wait."

She scoffed. "Dream on, Malfoy."

"C'mon Granger, it'll be a fun little competition. I'll still talk to you when I win, don't worry."

"You prat!" she hissed as they walked into current dining hall that had only one long table. Only the other students were there and there was no obvious head table for faculty and staff.

Everyone turned to look at them as they entered side by side. Draco was smirking in a teasing way and she was making her best pseudo-angry face. Her face changed to one of surprise when she realised they were being stared at and Draco slipped his neutral mask back on.

"Our public would expect nothing less, Granger," he said quietly before making his way to a seat between Nott and Daphne Greengrass. Hermione huffed and found a seat on the end next to Terry Boot.

Dinner was pleasant and flew quickly by. They were all nearly through the pudding, a nice chocolate cake with caramel sauce, when Professor McGonagall entered the room and asked for their attention.

"Now that most of you are finished, I'd like to announce the mentor-student pairs for this year. You are expected to report to their offices in 30 minutes for your first meeting.

Miss Abbot with Madame Pomfrey, Mister Boot, you'll be with Professor Martinez, our new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor who's joining us from Ilvermorny, Miss Brocklehurst, you'll be with me.."

Hermione went into a panic. She wasn't with McGonagal?

"Miss Granger with Professor Snape.."

 _There must be some sort of mistake!_ Her favourite professor's voice become a drone in the background as she blinked furiously at her half-eaten cake.

"Miss Greengrass with Firenze who's returned to teach Divination, Mister Longbottom with Professor Sprout, Mister Macmillan with Hagrid, Mister Malfoy with Professor Vector, Mister Nott with Professor Sinistra, and Miss Patil with Professor Flitwick.

Now I imagine that there will be some questions regarding your mentor, but I ask that you hold them for your meeting. Enjoy the rest of your cake, but please be sure to be on time." She gave them a small nod and left the room that was silent aside from the occasional clinking noise of forks on plates.

Hermione glanced down the table at Draco with a worried expression on her face. He caught her eye and gave her a shrug. They'd both been dead wrong. He didn't seem worried a bit, but Hermione wanted to shout. She was still rather intimidated by the surly professor and even a near death experience didn't seem to make him any more pleasant. She scarfed down the rest of her cake and hurried out the door, not wanting to be late and make things worse.

* * *

It was a long trek down to his dungeon office and the increasing dampness did nothing to revive her spirits. Unfortunately it wasn't long before she found herself before the familiar doorway and gave it a tentative knock.

"Enter," she heard.

She peeked in nervously, like a first year.

"Come in, Miss Granger, there's no use gawping at me through the door."

"S-sorry, sir." She closed the door and scurried to the chair on the opposite side of his desk.

"Now, Miss Granger," he began. He rested his elbows on the top of his desk, fingers steepled before his hooked nose. "I'm sure we're both surprised to find ourselves here for many reasons. Let me assure you that I had little choice in the matter and yet I see the wisdom in it."

Her face went from furrowed to surprised at that final remark.

"However, we do need to put certain matters, shall we say, to rest. I'm no hero, in spite of what the Ministry might say. I had my own reasons for my actions, but they hardly merited the garnered applause. And you're not here as a hero either. You're here because your thirst for knowledge knows no bounds and you somehow feel unqualified for whatever it is you intend to do after your studies. So I suggest that you tell me just what it is you hope to accomplish this year and we just might find a path we agree upon to get you there."

Hermione blinked at him a few times. He was being almost.. agreeable? Certainly not warm and inviting like McGonagall, but far more helpful than he'd ever been in the past. He was being professional, which is the most she could expect from someone like Snape.

"I'm considering studying law, but I've also thought about going for a mastery in something. I.. I may want to teach one day."

"Yes, I can see it now. Professor Granger overloading her dunderhead students as they frantically scrawl down her every word."

She blushed. "That's not.. well, I hope that I wouldn't be like that."

"Perhaps not. After all, you only raised your hand once today." He smirked at her which caused her to grow more flustered.

"Professor Snape, I hardly think-"

"Stop." The "p" practically echoed in the small space. "What N.E.W.T.s had you planned on taking?"

"Most of them, sir."

"Most of them," he repeated without the least bit of surprise in his voice.

Her face grew warm and she quickly explained herself.

"Arithmancy, Potions, Transfiguration, Charms, Astronomy, Defence Against the Dark Arts, Ancient Runes, and Muggle Studies."

"You do realise that each of those classes will be far more difficult than previous years? And that you won't have a Time Turner this year to help?"

She coloured again at the reminder of how she had managed her third year.

"I- yes. Yes, I figured as much."

"And are you sure that you'll manage to fit in the time to study? It should probably be easier now you won't have any heroic quests that take up your free time."

She blanched at the insinuation.

"I think I would like to try and if at half-term I'm not doing well, I would like to review which classes to continue and which to drop. And I don't need to have heroic quests to have a sense of purpose," she bit back.

"Funny, but your other years were spent doing exactly that."

"Right, while you played double agent and Godric knows what else."

"Watch your tone, Miss Granger. You might be an adult, but I am still your Professor."

He sounded almost menacing. She was once again glad that she didn't bring the gift. Maybe she'd give it to someone else.

"Yes, I, too, suddenly find myself with more time and freedom than I know what to do with. Thankfully, I am older and wiser than yourself and can manage it just fine."

"Are you suggesting that I'm still immature and naive?"

"We shall see, won't we?"

"I would hope that since I can stop anxiously planning for every eventuality and worrying over the safety of my best friends, perhaps I'll have time for serious study this term."

"Indeed. We'll meet again in two weeks time to see if you've changed your mind before classes actually begin."

"Just one other question, professor. It's about Malfoy."

"Mister Malfoy can answer for himself, I'm sure."

"No, it's just that.. well you know him better than I. He's apologised and seems to want to put things behind us. Do you think he's sincere?"

"He's lived a different nightmare than you, a fact which you are by now aware of. I think he is finally coming to terms with many regrets while also experiencing the same new freedom as you and I. Don't forget that his father will be in prison for the next five years and his mother is still expecting big things from him. Perhaps those expectations have shifted a bit these past several months and perhaps not. Use your own best judgement."

Hermione considered these things as silence settled into the office.

Snape broke her out of her reverie a few minutes later. "Do you have any further questions?"

"Ah, no, sir. Thank you, sir."

"That is all then. Tomorrow you'll be assigned to a work team to help with the reparations. You'll be given more information over breakfast. You're dismissed."

Hermione nodded, wide-eyed and let herself out the door, closing it firmly behind her. She made her way slowly back to the Eighth Year dormitory as she considered their discussion, glad to close herself into her room for the night and sift through the unexpected conversations she'd had that day.

* * *

Severus Snape sighed with relief when the door closed behind the chit. It didn't go as terribly as he'd anticipated and she asked so few questions that he nearly wondered if it was the same Miss Granger. She seemed less of a know-it-all, more thoughtful, and almost cordial with him though not overly familiar, thank the stars. He knew that's why he was saddled with her after all. Draco was practically family and most other students, less unaware of the depths of his role with the Order, might attempt to pry into his life. Hermione knew enough of it and yet seemingly held nothing against him, neither his rejection of glory, nor his reasons for betraying Voldemort. And this concern of hers over Draco... well, it was an interesting turn of events. If the two of them managed to work together for once in their lives, it would be quite the academic fusion. In any case, he resumed, at least he didn't have to pretend around her.

* * *

**9 August 1998**

That morning over breakfast, the Eighth Year students received their work assignments as promised. Much of the major reconstruction had already taken place, but the students were given various tasks, mostly indoor repairs - the owlery and astronomy towers still needed extensive work, the Great Hall was to be completely overhauled, the library had taken a beating, and various corridors still bore the marks of battle. Hermione would be spending the week working alongside Neville and "Theo" (as she'd so recently been encouraged to call him) with Hagrid to repair the fencing along the edge of the forest.

They chattered about their upcoming classes and career goals. It turned out that Theo wasn't as bad as the two Gryffindors had been led to thought - which had been founded on that fact that he was a Slytherin and his father was a known Death Eater - and they were all grateful to find themselves on friendlier terms.

By Wednesday, Hagrid left them to it as he had to prepare the pens for some new magical creatures that would be arriving the next week.

"So Hermione, how is it that you ended up with Snape?" questioned Neville finally.

"I really couldn't say, but after the initial shock wore off I decided that it would be alright."

Theo chuckled. "Imagine if he heard you say that. I mean, I know there's been no love lost between he and you Gryffindors."

"He _did_ nearly die in the war, you know. I don't suppose he thought he would even be alive on the other side," Hermione replied pensively.

The students grew somber at the thought.

"I suppose you're right," said Neville softly.

"Well I for one am glad it's over," quipped Theo. "Dad's in prison and I can finally breathe easy."

"Oh, Theo, I'm sorry, I didn't think-"

"It's alright, Hermione. The man is a monster who was profoundly disappointed when I didn't want to follow in his footsteps. And now I'm finally free to become what I choose."

Hermione wondered to herself how many other children of Death Eaters felt the same way.

"I heard you testified for the Malfoys, Granger."

She looked up to see Theo regarding her strangely again, like he did when she and Malfoy were talking in the room the evening before.

"Um, yeah. But so did Harry."

"But from what I heard," he continued darkly, "Potter wasn't laid out on their parlour floor like you, though."

"Malfoy.. he didn't give Harry away, though. At his house. And then his mother lied during the Battle and saved Harry's life. I knew none of them raised their wands that day anyway. Not after Crabbe..." She choked back a sob as she relived that harrowing moment, fiendfyre licking at them as they narrowly escaped.

Neville stopped what he was doing and wrapped his arms around the shaking girl as Theo spoke once more.

"My turn to apologise, Hermione. Personally, I left with the others as soon as the madness started. Draco won't talk about any of it and I didn't know..."

"It's.. it's ok, Theo. I think," she paused and sniffled, "I think there will likely be many similarly difficult conversations this year. And.. and it will be good for us to have them."

He nodded sagely and resumed his work, leaving Neville to soothe the rattled girl. By the time Hagrid returned, the three had completed their tasks for the day and were chatting amiably while leaning against the new fence.

The week itself went quickly by for the students, strange friendships slowly being formed across House divisions to the delight of the Headmistress who felt that a lot was riding on this experiment working out. The students had yet to be with any professors other than their mentors and work supervisors. Terry Boot, unsurprisingly, found himself fielding answers to questions about the new professor from the US.

"So what's he like?"

" _She_ is brilliant. She apparently taught at Ilvermorny for the last 10 years and was looking for a change, so when McGonagall came recruiting in July she.."

"Wait," someone said, "McGonagall asked her to come?"

"Oh yeah. Apparently the Headmistress is a friend of her mother's." He paused and chuckled. "Anyway, she said she'd come for the year and see how it goes."

"She _told_ you all that?" someone else asked.

"She's not one to hold back, that one. I have a feeling that if Snape tries to tell her how to do her job, she'll promptly tell him where he can stick his nose." He let out a hearty guffaw.

Hermione smiled and decided that she was probably going to like Professor Martinez very much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter drops on August 22! :D


	5. Getting to Know You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The work on the castle gets completed, Snape shares a rare moment of vulnerability, the students meet the last two professors.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I own nothing pertaining to Harry Potter and the wizarding world and earn nothing from writing this bit of fiction.

* * *

**20 August 1998**

They been settled in for nearly two weeks now. Hermione had been working in some of the lower corridors with Draco, Padma and Professor Snape for a few days and they were nearly done with the tedious work of repairing walls, cleaning floors, reassembling smashed statues and suits of armour, and rehanging tapestries that had already been carefully tended to by a group of artisans from Belgium. It had passed by peaceably enough, aside from the occasional bit of snark from Malfoy or barbed comment from the taciturn Professor. Hermione and Padma rolled their eyes and often took it in turn as to who would reply in kind. Padma at one point confided in Hermione her surprise at seeing either of them there, but the curly-haired witch reminded her that Hogwarts was still open for anyone who wished to build a better future. Draco, who was working across the way at that moment shot Hermione a grateful look that was not missed. She wondered what else Draco had been overhearing since his arrival. When they finished their work the following afternoon, Professor Snape pulled her aside.

"Tuesday after dinner, Miss Granger. Don't be late."

Hermione screwed up her face in confusion for only a moment. "To talk about classes, professor?"

"What else?" he drawled, eyebrow raised.

She laughed nervously. "Right. I, er, won't forget, sir."

"No doubt." And he nodded to the three of them and turned in a swirl of black capes and stalked off to another part of the castle. Hermione stood there for a moment, pensive.

"You alright?" asked Padma. "You look spooked."

Hermione's eyes grew wide as she snapped out of her reverie. "No, he was just reminding me that I'm to meet with him on Tuesday to talk about classes."

"I thought you were taking all of the classes. Not much to discuss then, is it?" snarked Draco.

"Wellll," her face coloured, "not _all,_ but several, yes."

"She can bloody well take whatever classes she wants, prat," replied Padma, a bit of irritation seeping into her voice.

"Of course she can. She knows I'm only having some fun." He rolled his eyes.

"Because you've never bullied her or anything over school."

"Look, we've sorted all that already."

"I'd watch it if I were you, Malfoy."

"Guys, I'm still right here. You know?"

"Right," blushed Padma. "Sorry."

Draco winked at her. "No hard feelings, Granger."

She smiled coyly back at him and excused herself to take a walk outside. She felt a little funny and needed to clear her head.

As she walked around the grounds, it was impossible not to remember that day, not to remember the hexes flying, the bodies littering the grounds, the absolute fear over how it all would end. Voldemort's ultimatum ringing out. The destruction everywhere. If she closed her eyes, she could still hear the shouting and the cries. She rubbed her face and blew out a slow breath. She must have been out there for over an hour, thinking, remembering, as tears slowly trickled down her cheeks.

"It must as been a terrible sight at the end," a low voice drawled from over her shoulder, correctly guessing her mood.

She turned and looked up at the face of Severus Snape. She wiped away her tears in embarrassment as she glanced back toward the now peaceful expanse of green.

"You found it difficult to come back here," he stated.

"And yourself, Professor?"

"Shutting myself off would solve nothing and there aren't many places of employment for one such as I."

She sniffled and straightened her shoulders.

"I'm sorry, sir. I shouldn't have said that."

"No need for apologies, Miss Granger. It was my own decision that led me here. Just as yours had consequences of their own."

"I have to believe that we can move forward. That we can do something to help those who come after us."

"Yes, I overheard your little exchange with Miss Patil earlier."

"Oh," she said softly.

"She's not the only one with the opinion that some of us shouldn't be here."

"It's not right, professor. Who are we to judge the hearts of others? Won't actions be proof enough?"

"For some, no. But your faith in others is.. refreshing. Perhaps war does not necessarily make cynics of us all."

"I - thank you, sir. That might be the kindest thing you've ever said to me."

"Don't get used to it," he smirked. "I believe it's nearly time for dinner, so I suggest you go wash your face and make yourself presentable."

"Thank you, sir. I'll be going now then." She gave him an awkward little smile and headed back to the castle.

Severus stood there for a few moments more, a bit surprised with himself. Was he growing soft? And to think he'd be stuck with the witch all year. Perhaps he ought to request a change, but then he thought better of it. Miss Patil certainly wasn't alone in her opinions and it _would_ be nice to mentor someone who wasn't convinced that he was a devil incarnate. Salazar's sake, he just wanted to have a smooth year of teaching for once in his career.

* * *

"What did Snape want earlier?"

Hermione, who had been lounging since dinner on a soft faux-nundu hide rug recently spread near the unlit fireplace, snapped out of her reverie.

"What?"

She twisted her head to eye Draco who was standing only a few feet away, studying her with an unreadable expression.

"He followed you outside this afternoon."

"Who appointed you my guardian, Malfoy?"

"Whoa, it was just a friendly question. No need to hex me with your Granger glare."

She rolled her eyes as he chuckled at his own joke.

"He did, but I don't see why it's your business."

"I suppose it isn't."

Her eyebrows shot up.

"Keep being so agreeable, Malfoy, and I'll think you're up to something."

"Yeah, because we both know that it's impossible for me to actually care," he snorted.

"No need to get shirty about it. We just talked, Malfoy. That's all."

"Was he being a complete arse?"

"No. No, he actually wasn't. Merlin, you're both so weird now. It's like I'm meeting you both for the first time."

"Not being under the thumb of megalomaniacs and blood purists will do that to a man."

"Right," she replied softly. "Look, I'm sorry. It's just…. it's good to be back, but it's also so hard. Everywhere I look, except in this room, I see places where other people once were. It's a constant reminder that they're gone."

Draco sat down next to her on the rug.

"You needn't have come back if it bothers you that much, Granger. We've already established that you're a swot, but I'm sure you could get whatever job you wanted just because of who you are."

"I'd rather earn it. And I think it's important to finish one's education."

"Potty and Weasel didn't think it so important."

"Well, I'm not them, am I? Though as the brains of the Golden Trio, I'm sure it's not really a surprise that I'm here." She groaned. "I hate that that is all I am."

"Could be worse. You could be an ex-Death Eater."

"Everything is a competition to you," she sighed.

"Just trying to help you gain perspective."

"Thank you, Malfoy's oddly empathetic doppleganger."

He laughed quietly.

"But it is true," he admitted.

"What is?"

"I'm competitive."

"I never noticed," she deadpanned.

"You're actually funny, Granger, when you're not reciting a textbook."

"Yet another backhanded compliment. Whatever shall I do."

He grinned down at her.

"I'm still a Slytherin. Don't expect too much out of me."

She giggled at that.

"You mean you're still a git. A more tolerable one than before, but toads don't lose their warts."

"Did you just compare me to a toad?"

"I compared you to warts, Malfoy."

"Cheeky witch."

Terry wandered out of his room at and wandered over to them.

"Malfoy."

"Boot."

"You guys want to play Exploding Snap? Neville said he'd play."

"I was thinking about showering and turning in," Draco replied lamely.

"Afraid of losing, Malfoy?" Hermione grinned.

"Fine, you're on. Don't complain when I win."

The four of them played a few rounds, drinking pumpkin juice and talking about the work they'd done around the castle, until it was clear that Terry had won. Draco was a little miffed, but he wasn't the sore loser that Hermione expected he would be. They all went to their rooms after, knowing that tomorrow would be another day of repairs.

* * *

**25 August 1998**

Hermione arrived once again on time to her meeting with Professor Snape and once again felt a bit rattled in spite of their recent conversation. She knocked and was promptly admitted.

"Miss Granger. Have you reconsidered the amount of N.E.W.T.s you'd like to sit for?"

"No. That is to say that I don't really want to try for less unless it becomes apparent that I'm not doing well in a certain subject. It's difficult to know how I will fare since there are some new professors."

"Ah yes. So many unknowns," he replied sarcastically.

"May I ask you a personal question, sir?"

"You may ask. I may choose to not answer."

"Of course, sir. I was merely curious why you returned to Potions and not Defence Against the Dark Arts."

He huffed, knowing that she wouldn't let it go until he finally answered.

"Suffice it to say that I'd like minimal criticism from parents who may or may not be convinced that I would actually be teaching Defence rather than the Dark Arts themselves."

"Oh," she replied in a very small voice. "Well if... if the new professor is as rubbish as most of them have been, would you be interested in tutoring students?"

"It would be rather unfair of me since I, too, know nothing of Professor Martinez." He paused with a smirk. "And you can't tell me that one such as yourself actually would need any tutoring on the matter. You could just.. read a book."

Hermione blushed at the insinuation.

"It's not the same as working through it in person with someone."

"Miss Granger, you dueled Death Eaters. I hardly think you need to worry about your lack of knowledge in the area."

"But who better to help us improve than someone who knows what we might be up against?"

"Touché. But unless you're interesting in becoming an auror, the chances of you needing such skills is rather slim these days."

"I like to be prepared, sir."

"And I like to be able to get my work done. Do you have any other impertinent questions for me today?"

She worried her lip and sighed.

"I'm glad to see that even a near death experience couldn't overly change you, professor. Your reputation will remain intact." She couldn't believe that she just said that. But after all she'd been through that year, she couldn't bring herself to hold back. To her great surprise, he laughed.

"Fearless as ever, Miss Granger."

At that she stuck out her chin defiantly.

"Should I fear you, professor?"

"You weren't afraid to battle the Dark Lord and his minions, so why should you fear me? Aside from the fact that I hold your schooling in my hand?" He could tell he'd struck a nerve there as he watched her wince.

"No need to worry, girl. I'll overlook your bit of cheek this time. But I suggest that you mind your tongue once classes resume."

"Yes, sir."

* * *

**28 August 1998**

The day was warm, sunny and the Eighth Years decided to have a picnic by the lake rather than eating indoors. The kitchen elves thus packed a few hampers and left them by the door for the students to take along. Blankets were spread upon the grass and students began sitting down in small clumps. Hermione was at the far end, a large space between herself and Theo.

"Mind if I sit, Granger?"

Hermione squinted up in the direction of the speaker, his blonde hair practically ablaze in the sunlight.

"Would it matter if I did?" she asked with a grin.

"Probably not," he concluded and sat next to her. They sat there eating for several minutes before Hermione felt the need to strike up a conversation.

"So how were your meeting with Professor Vector?"

"Good actually. We spoke yesterday about some potential career options for me."

"How about you, Nott?" Draco asked the wizard on the other side of him.

"Yeah, alright."

"You're with Professor Sinistra, Theo, right?" asked Harmione.

"Yeah. She was a little prickly with me until I promised that I want to work hard this year. Last year in her class...well... it didn't go so well."

"So you'll be taking Advanced Arithmancy with us?"

"Whoa, Granger, I didn't tell you I was taking that."

"You _told_ me you were taking all the same classes as me."

"And you actually believed me?'

"You're terrible."

"Actually, I think we probably will be in the same classes," he snickered. "How's it going with Snape?"

"He's surprisingly civil once you cut through the snark."

"Careful, Granger. Wouldn't want it to get out that you fancy him."

"Sod off, Malfoy. That's the most vile thing you've said to me yet this month."

Theo smirked. "She didn't deny it, mate," he quipped, just low enough that Hermione just barely heard him.

Hermione made an angry noise, but she was mid-chew and refused to stoop to talking with her mouth full.

"She didn't, it's true," Draco guffawed. "This is brilliant. Have you written Hermione Snape in your journal with hearts all around it?" He broke into peals of laughter, which made the other students curious.

Hermione swallowed, took a sip of pumpkin juice, and then shouted "You're such an immature prat and that's an absurd idea. He's... he's old enough to be my father!"

By now everyone was listening in, snickering.

"Well that didn't stop Vane from running off with an older wizard this summer."

"Perhaps you need glasses, but I am not Romilda bloody Vane!"

Draco knew how to wind her up and was immensely enjoying it, to the glee of Theo and Daphne, who was sitting next to him.

"No, but you're a swot. Don't swots have daydreams of running off with their professors?"

"Not with Snape!" she shrieked and rose to her knees. She gave Malfoy such a shove that he fell into Theo and was promptly splashed with the other wizard's pumpkin juice.

"Why you-!" Draco cried and shoved her back, falling onto her and making her squeal.

Laughter from the other students echoed off the surface of the lake but stopped as soon as it started when a shadow loomed over them.

"Should we have begun a wrestling club for Mr. Malfoy and.. Miss Granger?" Snape stared down at them with an eyebrow raised. They broke apart and Hermione sheepishly rearranged her curls which were now even wilder than before. Draco gave her a wink and she gave him the stink eye in return. Their cheeks were both flushed, but Hermione was obviously more embarassed than anything else.

"Sorry, professor," she murmured.

"I came out to tell you lot that in thirty minutes, you're all to be in the Great Hall. Why I have to play errand boy is beyond me, but if you're late for Any. Reason. At. All. we will begin detentions earlier this year. Are we clear?"

A chorus of "yes, Professor," came from the group. He gave an extra glare at Draco and Hermione before stalking back toward the castle in a dramatic swirl of his cape.

Neville came over and sat by Hermione.

"What was that all about?" he asked quietly.

"Malfoy was just being a prat." She cast another glare in said wizard's direction.

"Nothing serious though, right?" He looked a little nervous.

"Nothing I can't handle, Neville. Thanks, though." She smiled and he gave her a pat on the shoulder before rising and joining in a discussion with Hannah Abbot.

Hermione finished her lunch as she chatted with Daphne about the repairs that were done to the Great Hall as the blonde was one of the students who'd helped finish getting it in order that week. When it was time to go, the two witches fell in together as they slowly found things that they never knew that they had in common.

* * *

The Great Hall was nearly ready for the welcoming feast. The long tables were once again in their proper place, the house banners brightly decorating the walls, and the enchanted ceiling showing a partly cloudy summer day, much like it was outside. Seated in a row on the floor in front of the head table were familiar faces and a few new ones. In fact, Firenze and Hagrid seemed to be the only ones missing. The Headmistress stood as the students streamed in, gesturing them to an arched row of chairs facing the professors. Neville was the last one to enter and nearly scurried to his seat under the baleful glare of Snape.

"Many faces here need no introduction, but I would like to briefly introduce you to Professor Fiore and Professor D'orleans who have recently arrived and then I would like each of you to state your name and what you hope to accomplish after graduation. Before anyone complains or comments, the Seventh Years will get a similar chance once they arrive. You simply have the honor of going first." She gave a perfunctory smile and moved to the side, giving a nod to a stocky dark haired, bespectacled wizard who was seated between Professor Flitwick and Professor Vector.

The wizard stood, his sun-kissed skin and neatly trimmed beard making his silver glasses stand out all the more.

"I'm Professor Marco Fiore and I will be teaching Muggle Studies." His accent was very slight but it seemed that the rumour about him being Italian was true. "I've travelled and studied muggle culture the world over and it pleases me to be able to share what I've learned. I hope to provide a varied and rich experience in my class this year."

Some of the students thought his little speech sounded a bit canned, but he did seem interesting and it certainly would be an improvement over Carrow.

"Thank you, Professor Fiore. Professor D'orleans?"

A thin man of average height with shoulder-length brown hair that curled on the ends stood up from his place at the end of the row.

"Good afternoon. I will be 'elping Professor McGonagall with Transfiguration class." He had a heavier accent than Fiore, but was no less pleasant to listen to. He was by far the youngest face in the line of professors. Padma and Daphne both sighed which which earned them a pointed look from McGonagall. "I am looking forward to my time here at 'ogwarts and getting to know you all better."

Snape rolled his eyes, which made Draco snicker.

McGonagall cleared her throat and stood once more. "Now it is your turn, students. Please introduce yourselves and what you hope to make of yourselves in the near future. We'll begin here on the end with Miss Patil."

"I'm Padma Patil and I hope to be a beauty consultant."

"I'm Daphe Greengrass and I'd like to write for Witch Weekly."

"Hermione Granger and I think I'd like to become a professor."

Draco Malfoy and I really have no idea, but that's why I'm still in school." Several students laughed somewhat unkindly. Others appreciated his humour. Hermione shushed them equally.

"Theo Nott and I'd like to pursue an academic career. Perhaps research."

Hermione's eyebrows shot up and she thought perhaps he really did merit a bit more notice than she'd given him in the past.

"Neville Longbottom and I'd like to study Herbology."

"Mandy Brocklehurst here. I hope to become a Magizoologist."

"Terry Boot. I'd like to work for the DMLE."

"Ernie Macmillan. I'm going to apply to the new Auror programme."

"Hannah Abbot. I plan on becoming a Healer."

McGonagall stood again and smiled.

"Thank you, students. You are now free to stay and chat with the professors or leave. Dinner will be served in your usual dining room tonight."

"I know what you're going to do, swot," Draco whispered as they stood. "A little meet and greet with the new professors has to be a dream come true."

"Shut it, ferret. I saw you looking over Martinez."

He smirked and said nothing back, choosing to wander over to Professor Snape. Hermione was well and truly glad to meet the other new professors and quickly sought out Professor Fiore, hoping to get a better idea of what to expect from his class.

"Good afternoon, Professor Fiore. I'm looking forward to your class this year."

"Ah, Hermione Granger, yes? I am surprised that you are still in school."

"I'd like to finish my N.E.W.T.s, sir. Having a proper education means a great deal to me."

"Good to hear it. I will be looking forward to teaching you."

With that, the man turned away and began chatting with Professor Sinistra. Hermione bit her lip, feeling awkward. She felt… dismissed. Politely dismissed, but nonetheless the conversation was clearly over before it began. She quickly rallied and joined the small cluster that had formed around Professor D'orleans.

"Yes, I'm certain," he was saying, "that it will be quite zee interesting school year."

"How old are you, professor?" Daphne shyly asked. _Since when was Daphne shy?_ Hermione wondered.

"I'll be twenty-two zhis year. I 'ave just finished my schooling to become a professor, but need to do some practical…euh… work."

"Did you go to Beauxbatons?" another asked.

He smiled. "Yes, I believe you know my cousine Fleur.. Weasley?"

"She's brilliant," added Hermione. "I had no idea you were her cousin. I'm a good friend of the Weasleys." Mostly. Though it _was_ a bit awkward how things turned out with Ron. Ah, well.

Draco, who had been walking behind her, paused for a moment as she spoke before continuing his way to the door. That was the first he'd heard mention of her relationship with the Weasley family, aside from the casual mention that Ron had already enrolled in Auror training. Weren't they supposed to be getting married or something? That was the rumour, anyway.

Hermione, for her part, found herself quickly engrossed in the conversation with the young frenchmen as the others slowly dissipated. Eventually it was merely the two of them, having delved more into the complexities of some of the more difficult transfiguration spells which had held her rapt until they were politely interrupted by the Headmistress.

"I do hope that you're not boring Miss Granger, Professor."

"Oh, no, ma'am," Hermione blurted out. Her cheeks grew heated and she looked down at the floor. "That is to say that I'm difficult to bore when it comes to transfiguration theory."

Professor D'orleans grinned and gave the Headmistress a wink. "I apologise, Minerva. I forgot zee time."

She patted the younger professor on the shoulder.

"Miss Granger, dinner will be soon. Why don't you enjoy the last bit of afternoon while I help Professor D'orleans get acquainted with the our classroom."

The curly-haired witch nodded to each of them. "Thank you for the discussion, Professor. Headmistress." She hurried out the large doors and headed outside as suggested. There she found Mandy, Terry, and Theo having an animated discussion and joined in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Chapter 6 will arrive on 29 August.


	6. Back to School

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The other students arrive, classes begin, and things get heated for Severus in a less than pleasant way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I own nothing pertaining to Harry Potter and the wizarding world and earn nothing from writing this bit of fiction.
> 
> Thanks for reading!

**1 September 1998**

The welcome feast felt strange but comforting in its rituals. The new students were sorted into their houses, the rules concerning the Eighth Years were explained, and the new Head Boy and Head Girl were presented: Jasper Hughes of Ravenclaw and Ginevra Weasley of Gryffindor.

Hermione cheered with several others and gave Ginny a wide grin who returned it with one of her own.

"Guess Weaselette will be keeping an eye on you this year, eh?" a teasing voice drawled.

Hermione turned to Draco with a frown. When he had slipped onto the bench beside her she had no idea. "And just what is that supposed to mean?"

"You attract trouble like gold does a niffler. Don't lie and say you don't."

"You would know, Malfoy. Half of the time it involved you."

"So you're saying that you think I'm attracted to you? Or is _you_ who is interested in _me_?" His mischievous laugh coincided with her own flushed appearance.

"What are you on about? I said nothing of the -"

"Shh, Weaselette is staring. Wouldn't want to start a rumour so soon." His slate eyes danced with glee.

"Stow it, ferret," she hissed.

He gave her a wink, but went silent as the Headmistress introduced the new faces at the head table.

Later that evening, Ginny invited Hermione to her room so the two of them could catch up.

"So what was Malfoy going on about earlier?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Just being a pain in the arse as usual."

Ginny's countenance darkened. "If he's bothering you, just say the word and I'll take care of him."

"It's ok, Ginny, I promise," she replied, a bit too defencively. "He's been alright really, there's no need."

The red-headed girl's eyebrows disappeared behind her fringe. "If I find out that you've been lying to me-"

"I swear, Ginny. He was just trying to get a rise out of me. He's not the vile brat that we knew before. He even… he apologised, Gin. For everything. And he's been decent ever since."

"Decent including obviously upsetting you?"

"I wasn't upset, I just- he's still a prat. Just not an evil one."

Something in Hermione's tone made Ginny pause and purse her lips.

"Is there.." she narrowed her eyes, "something going on between you?"

"If you mean whether we're friends now, I suppose that's possibly the case."

The red haired girl snorted, though a smile crept onto her face.

"I suppose stranger things have happened."

"You're… you're not angry?" Hermione looked shocked.

"You're allowed to have friends, Hermione. Just promise that you'll let me know if, you know, there's something more to tell?" She waggled an eyebrow.

A bit of pink tinged the brunette's cheeks at the very implication as Draco's earlier words danced anew in her head.

"Er… sure, Ginny. Though that's extremely unlikely. He's still an arse."

That uncomfortable conversation over, the two friends talked until curfew as Hermione recounted how her first month back at Hogwarts went, the new dorms, about Snape being her advisor for the year (which made Ginny ask more questions), and her impressions of the new professors. Ginny, in turn, updated her about the latest Weasley family news - it seemed that George had agreed to begin looking for a new business partner, as difficult as that would be, Bill and Fleur were expecting, and Charlie went back to Romania just the week before - and how it seemed that Harry and Ron had taken to the Auror training like a gnome to a garden.

Hermione was slightly hurt that she hadn't received so much as an owl yet, but she chided herself for such thoughts. She hadn't sent any herself either, so she decided she'd send one the next week after she had more to write about than building repairs.

"I'm so glad you're here, Ginny." She wrapped her friend in a tight hug.

"It's going to be a great year. Finally."

Hermione agreed and went back to her dorm, her confidence soaring. When she entered the common room, she was surprised to find Daphne with her wand pointed at a seated Draco Malfoy.

"I swear on my wand that I don't know anything about it, Daph!"

Just then the door closed behind Hermione and the two of them looked over. Daphne lowered her wand.

"You best not be lying, Draco," she hissed and marched off to her room.

Hermione stood stock still until her door slammed shut.

"What was that all about?" she whispered.

"There is some rumour going around about Daphne's sister."

"And why would that involve you?"

"Because apparently she and I have been playing in my 'sex dungeon' all summer." His scoffing tone told her everything she needed to know.

Hermione wrinkled up her nose. "Why would anyone believe that?"

"Why wouldn't they? I was a big bad Death Eater. Who knows how depraved I am?"

"I've been in your 'dungeon', if you haven't forgotten. And I can attest that there's nothing besides dirt and rats."

Draco smirked. "Maybe I've renovated since then."

"You bloody arse, I was trying to help," she glared. "Frankly, I don't care what you do in your own damned house, so long as I am far, far away."

Draco looked like he wanted to say something else, but her baleful glare made him reconsider.

"Right. Well. Thanks for believing me, I suppose."

"We have classes tomorrow, so I'm off to bed," she announced and left him standing there in the room.

When she closed her own door, she unfastened her robes, stowed her shoes under her bed, hung up her uniform and slipping on her new favorite pajamas. There were pale blue with unicorn print and the phrase "Make every day magical!" was scattered throughout. She put her hair back in braids and finally allowed herself to sink into her soft mattress, pulling the blankets up to her chin. She felt a ball of anxiety in her stomach. Tomorrow classes would begin. She was going to have a full course load, but the only classes that worried her the most involved the new professors. She already made plans to draw up a colour-coded homework chart after classes tomorrow to help her manage her time wisely. She'd have classes with Ginny for the first time, which excited her. It would make Harry and Ron's absence more bearable.

Her thoughts drifted to their earlier conversation which then had her remembering the rumour going around about Draco. It irritated her that it was only the first day and empty talk was already circulating. "Sex dungeon," she scoffed aloud. There wasn't anything remotely sexy about the Malfoy dungeons. His little joke about renovating grated at her, but she wasn't really sure why. His way of teasing made her feel rather strange. She couldn't quite put her finger on what it was doing to her though. She only hoped that he would stop.

Draco had trouble sleeping that night. He had a nightmare of Hermione and the others being locked up in his house. Only in the dream, they were each in small cages that hung from the ceiling and only Bellatrix had the keys. She kept forcing him to Crucio them, one after another, as they screamed against the metal bars.

Once he was awake, he went out to the small kitchen for a glass of water. The room was silent and the window showed the stars. With a sigh, he drained the glass and, leaving it in the sink, wandered back to his room. He had few decorative items in the room: a family photo taken at the end of third year, a small Slytherin banner, and an enchanted mirror that his mother had made him bring that would tell on him if he started behaving destructively. On his desk sat his notes from the summer. He still didn't know what to make of those words he'd found in his grandfather's journal. If they were better friends, he would just ask Granger. _Hermione_ , he corrected himself. She tolerated his teasing just fine (mostly), but he doubted she was willing to actually embroil herself in his life. She already had plenty of friends, anyway. And if they were going to start rumours like that about he and Astoria just because he walked down with her to the Slytherin common room this evening after dinner, who knows what they would say about Hermione. No, she didn't need sordid stories being whispered about her in the hall. She'd be mortified. He was finally calm enough to get back to sleep when the memory of her blushing at dinner popped into his mind. _It was actually kind of cute._

* * *

**10 September 1998**

Hermione was actually struggling with her workload and the term had barely started. She would never admit it to anyone, but it felt that she grossly overestimated her ability to seamlessly leap back into studies at N.E.W.T. level which promptly consumed all of her waking hours. Currently she was drowning in rolls of parchment, stacks of books, and was getting a cramp from writing.

Draco, for his part, had been doing his best to keep up with Hermione in their classes. His goal was, of course, to surpass her, but it was hard to do when all she seemed to do was study. He was no slouch, but he was of the opinion that there was more to life than taking notes and reading textbooks. When he exhausted from studying, he would zoom about the empty quidditch pitch to relax and enjoy once more the sense of freedom that flying provided. It just so happened that it was raining that day, so flying was, for lack of a better term, off the table, so he heaved a great sigh and wandered down to the library where a certain curly-haired witch was sure to be commandeering the far back table.

He stood in front of the table for a good five minutes before either of them spoke. He noticed that she had a spot of ink on her cheek and debated whether he was going to tell her or not.

"Problem, Malfoy?" She didn't even need to look to know who it was. She could smell his aftershave. Should she even know that about him? She wasn't sure.

"Maybe."

 _That_ got her attention. She paused and glanced up. He was looking over her current selection of books, his own school bag in hand. "Such as?"

"I need a study partner, Granger."

"Shouldn't you go find one then?"

"I assumed you were available." No sooner did the words leave his lips, he cringed inwardly. He quickly rebounded. "You've been studying alone."

Which she had, but mostly because she and Ginny didn't have much free time at the same time. Ginny was still playing quidditch and had Head Girl duties. Hermione was taking far more classes and couldn't wait until 10pm to do her homework.

"Maybe because I like to?"

"Come off it, you always studied with Potter and Weaselbee."

"Yes, so that they wouldn't fail."

"Well wouldn't you like to study with an equal for once?"

She scoffed. "Pff. Whatever. Go bother someone else."

"I bet you a box of chocolate cauldrons that you'll spend less time studying and still get perfect scores."

She considered the idea as the notion of somehow spending less time cooped up in the library was appealing. She did love it there, but even she had her limits.

"Alright, Malfoy, you're on. I'll give you until Halloween." She moved her books to one side of the table to make room.

He sat down in the empty chair, dropping his bag on the table before him. "What are we studying first?"

"Runes. We have a few lines of translation and a 10 inch essay on rune-activated spells in ancient Rome."

"Well how did you translate this one here?" He pointed to one near the beginning of the third line.

"I thought it was the symbol for storms, but then I remembered that would have had an extra three dots in the center."

They worked their way through the text together, now and again disagreeing until Hermione pulled out a dictionary to settle the matter. The time passed quickly and before long they were nearly finished their essays, their quills scratching along in the otherwise silent work. Draco rolled his up when he was through, looking pleased with himself as he noticed that Hermione was still writing. She had already written at least a foot.

"When you're through, you might want to get the bit of ink that's on your cheek. Unless you want to start a new trend."

Hermione chuckled at the idea of her being any sort of fashion icon. "Where is it?"

Draco transfigured the lid to an empty inkpot into a mirror.

"Thanks."

He watched in part wonder and horror when he saw her lick her thumb and scrub the smudge from her cheek. She must have noticed because her eyebrows shot up.

"What? Did I not get it?"

"Er.. well, no, yeah, you did. But why did you do it like that?"

"Like wha- ohhh." She laughed. "Sorry, old habit. It's what my mum always did when I was a kid."

"Cleaned your face with your own spit?"

"No, with hers."

His eyes grew larger and she laughed again.

"Oh come on, don't be such a snob. It was only when we didn't have a flannel or tissue handy."

He relaxed a bit, but was still looking at her a bit odd.

"Get over yourself. We still have Transfiguration homework to do."

That night when Hermione was back in her room, she laughed to herself again about the incident. Who knew that using a bit of spit cleaning would have freaked him out?

Suddenly a dark voice whispered to her, "You could have gotten him dirty, Mudblood."

"He doesn't think of me like that anymore," she whispered back. But the statement stuck in her mind as she looked down at her arm and undid the glamour she'd cast, the scars just as angry looking as ever. Her souvenir from her last trip to Malfoy Manor: Mudblood. When she finally managed to sleep, she had nightmares of Bellatrix, but this time Draco didn't look frightened. He looked malicious.

Draco was also getting ready for bed, pleased with the amount of homework he'd breezed through. It seemed to go much faster when he wasn't trying to do it alone. He could have asked someone else, maybe Theo or Daphne, but he and Granger had all the same classes, so it only made sense, right? She was still a bit strange, but Draco admitted that in fact he probably hardly knew her at all. Obviously. He's the one that freaked out when she licked her thumb and cleaned her face. That wasn't what he was used to witches doing. And his mother would have never dreamed of doing such a thing to him as a child. She would have sullied her thumb and plus magic would do a better job. So why did suddenly wish he would have been the one to have a smudge on his face?

* * *

**12 September 1998**

Severus Snape was officially in full "dungeon bat" mein. Thank Merlin that his Advanced students were proving themselves to not be dunderheads because he'd given five students detentions the first week for various mischievous acts and then today frightened a first year boy so badly he'd wet himself. He let himself feel bad about it later for a brief minute before remembering that it was because the boy was about to blow his face off without realising it. It didn't make the lecture any more pleasant that he'd gotten from both the Headmistress and Professor Martinez who'd happened upon the cowering boy on his way back to his rooms to change. He could take it from Minerva who knew him well and was certain that he hadn't done it on purpose. The tongue lashing that Holly Martinez gave him, however, made him wish he'd just let the boy blow himself up. No matter what he said, she made herself to be the superior, talking about self-esteem, the correct way to discipline children… on and on she went.

Livid would have been an understatement to describe how he was feeling at that moment. He had nearly bitten his tongue off while she went on and on, but when McGonagall's attempts to quell the other woman's tirade went unheeded he finally he shouted, "This isn't America, Professor Martinez, and it wasn't your class. The boy could have been seriously hurt or killed and he needed to stop before he put one more dropper into his cauldron. He's lucky that I noticed _and_ that we all survived the class! An accident in his pants was a small price to pay."

Professor Martinez turned on her heel and stalked down the hall to dinner.

"Severus, you should have at least pretended to listen to the woman. She's studied teaching methods in several countries and is respected as an educator the world over."

He rolled his eyes.

"Then perhaps she should apply some of that when speaking to a fellow teacher," he growled.

"I'm not saying that I disagree with you Severus, but she takes her job just as seriously as you do yours. You are both just too stubborn to notice." He huffed and crossed his arms, but she continued. "What else do you have today?"

"I have a meeting with the illustrious Miss Granger after dinner and rounds tonight."

"And how is Hermione doing?"

"She asks less questions in class, but she still does everything perfectly, to no one's surprise."

"Severus, I didn't ask if she irritated you. I asked how _she_ is doing."

"Well, I suppose I'll find out later. Shall I send you a report?"

It was her turn to huff in annoyance. "If she seems like she's struggling, at least try to be kind, hmm?"

He muttered something incoherent, but she let it go.

"Come along then, let's get to dinner while it's still hot."

As they entered the Great Hall, everything seemed to be in order. The students were chattering peaceably as they ate. He glanced over to the Eighth Year table and saw that Miss Granger was engrossed in something Theodore Nott was saying. He looked over the rest of the table and saw that everyone seemed to be getting along, regardless of previous house affiliation. It was only when he looked at the head table that his eyes connected with the heated glare of Holly Martinez. Circe, this is going to be some year after all. He ignored it and, having sat down, ate his meal in silence, letting the conversations around him wash over his thoughts.

He left the hall as soon as he had finished and headed straight for his office to mentally prepare himself for his meeting with Miss Granger. She really was less of a bother this year and he found himself strangely empathetic in her presence. He'd admit that to no one, of course. It was painful enough to admit to himself. Perhaps that she no longer was part of the holy trio and just there as a student like everyone else that made him dislike her less. Maybe it was knowing that she endured hardships during the war like everyone else. He's caught a glimpse of her scarred arm once, but said nothing about it. He'd considered offering to help after McGonagall told him how she'd gotten it, but he refused to poke his nose into anything. If she asked, he would, however, consider it.

A gentle knock sounded on his office door.

"Come in, Miss Granger," he called out.

She was as awkward as always, so he felt that pointing it out further would do no good. He waited for her to have a seat before beginning. He rested his elbows on his desk and studied her for a moment. She sat up straight, without fear.

"How are your studies going, Miss Granger?" he said at last.

"Better now."

"Care to elaborate?"

"Well, I made a study chart the first day, of course, which worked well until it didn't. You see, I thought I'd be able to study with Ginny, but as it turns out she's rather busy and I have more classes than she, so now I'm studying with Malfoy."

He hid his surprise behind his mask. "And has this been an improvement?"

"Well, don't tell him this, sir, but it's been nice studying with someone who is unafraid to work hard at it."

He smirked. "Your secret is safe with me, Miss Granger. Is there anything you wish to discuss with me?"

"Just two things, professor. I'm concerned about… about students spreading rumours about Malfoy. It's not very kind. Perhaps this is something that can be addressed with the entire student body?"

"Oh I'm sure that me preaching about kindness would go down rather well after the day I've had."

"Oh, I heard about that! I'm sure you had good reason, though."

"Not good enough for Professor Martinez, though." He couldn't believe he'd just said that out loud to a student. "Forget that I mentioned it. I'll bring your concerns to the Headmistress, of course. So what is the second thing?"

"It's about Professor Martinez, sir."

"I don't see you having problems in her class."

"It's not like that at all. Well we, er, some of us thought that maybe you and she would.." She paused and chewed her lip nervously.

"Out with it, Granger," he sighed.

"Dueling club?" she asked in a hopeful half-whisper.

"There's absolutely no way she would agree to that."

* * *

"There's no way she'll say no to that," said Minerva McGonagall. "She looked angry enough to hex you today. Why would she turn down the chance to actually do it?"

"Do you think she'd actually be able to?"

"Well, no, but it doesn't mean that she wouldn't make an effort trying."

He barked out a laugh.

"Miss Granger also brought up a problem about rumours going around the school involving Mr. Malfoy that she assured me were not true."

"Do you know what they are about?"

"I didn't ask. She just said that she found it in poor taste."

"Well, of course. Not to worry, I'll say something at dinner tomorrow."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ironically, my kiddo is going back to school this coming week and I'll be getting back to a more normal work schedule. I'll try to update again next Saturday since that seems to be working well, but I may need a few more days to edit. Thanks for the kind comments thusfar.
> 
> If you haven't read it yet, I wrote a very different sort of Dramione earlier this year entitled "Cursed OR The Consequences of Surviving" and am currently writing an Antomione entited "Letting Go".
> 
> Much love to you all!


	7. Signs of Affection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dueling Club and birthday surprises

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I own nothing pertaining to Harry Potter and the wizarding world and earn nothing from writing this bit of fiction.
> 
> Thanks for reading!

**15 September 1998**

A notice was newly hung in each of the common rooms. All students from third year and up were invited to participate in the new and improved Dueling Club. It would be held on several Fridays, six times in total beginning 2 October and hosted by Professors Snape and Martinez. Hermione's eyes twinkled when she saw the notice that evening.

"Going to join, Malfoy?" she teased as he read over her shoulder. They had just come back to the room from studying in the library. "Or are you too afraid that I'll show you up?"

"We both know that I'm faster than you. I look forward to making you lose in front of your fan club."

She laughed and went to her room.

Terry Boot who had overheard their exchange from where he was seated in an armchair raised an eyebrow.

"You really think you can beat her in a duel, Malfoy?" he called out. "Better start practicing."

Draco stopped and turned toward the sandy-haired young man.

"You volunteering?"

"If it means I get to hand your arse to you, of course."

"What's with everyone wanting to hex me?"

"Maybe if you hadn't had become a Death Eater, we wouldn't."

Draco frowned. "I didn't have a choice in the matter, Boot."

"Just like you didn't have to choice to side with Umbridge. Or the Carrows."

"If I would have openly fought the Carrows, Voldemort would have killed me. You're right about Umbridge though. She was a bloody cow."

Terry snickered. "Whatever. You join that club, you'd better watch your back, Malfoy. Not everyone is as keen to keep the peace as our year is."

Draco's eyes glittered darkly and he gave the other wizard a curt nod before going to his room. He knew it wouldn't be easy this year, but his mother insisted and he knew deep down that she was right. He didn't accuse Hermione of telling McGonagall about the rumours, but in any case the heavy-handed announcement by the Headmistress seemed to have done the job for the meantime and Daphne got off his back. Dueling Club could be a safe way to prove that he wasn't a wizard to mess with. Facing off with Granger would be an added bonus - she was as cute as she was fierce, though he'd never admit to telling her that he'd noticed either trait.

* * *

**19 September 1998**

Ginny may or may not have intentionally let it slip in front of the Eighth Year table at lunch several days ago that Hermione's birthday was coming up. She might have also secured permission for the Eighth years (plus herself and Luna) to go to Hogsmeade that day and organised a little surprise party at the Three Broomsticks, thanks in part to Blaise Zabini who, as it turned out, truly was working with Madama Rosmerta. She got additional permission for herself and Luna to go there just after breakfast to get things ready and left Neville in charge of getting Hermione there in time for lunch.

Hermione awoke that morning with a pit in her stomach. It wasn't that she'd forgotten her birthday - Ginny repeatedly talking about it wouldn't have allowed it - but she found herself wishing that she were already on the other side of it. Another birthday without her parents stung. She hadn't been able to make any progress with the Australian Ministry who kept shuttling her request from person to person and the only answer that she'd received so far was a steady "Regretfully we are unable to help at this time". She considered talking with Professor Flitwick after her next charms class. She dragged herself to breakfast where she ate a small bowl of plain porridge and an apple before heaving a sigh.

"Hermione, are you busy today?" Neville suddenly inquired.

"Not really, no. What do you need?"

"Well, I have some errands to run for Professor Sprout in Hogsmeade later this morning and could really use your help."

Hermione visibly brightened at the idea. "Of course, Neville. What time shall we be leaving?"

"Is 11:30 too late? We could grab a bite to eat in town, too. I'm buying. It _is_ your birthday after all." He gave her a wink.

"Alright, meet you next to the front doors then," she grinned and, on the spur of the moment, gave him a quick hug. "Thanks, Neville. It'll be great to get out for a bit."

Draco had been watching the exchange from the other end of their small table. His eyes narrowed for an instant at the other wizard, but Neville didn't see it. Theo did.

"Something wrong with your eyes, Draco? Or are you glaring daggers at Longbottom for a particular reason?"

"Shove off, Theo. I was thinking about the fact that I still need to wrap Hermione's present before her party."

"What did you get her?" he asked nosily.

"A book," he shrugged.

"A book? That's hardly romantic."

"Why would I give her something romantic, even if it would be a joke? That's just asking for her to do something nasty to me."

"I've seen how you look at her, Draco. You can't fool me."

"You're imagining things, Theo. We're just friends now is all."

"Friends like you and Pansy used to be?" he sniggered.

"Like actual friends. There's nothing wrong with that, is there?"

"You tell me," Theo whispered seriously. "You're the one who spent the last several years hating her and now you spend all your time with her."

"Do I need to clear my study partners with you?" Draco snorted.

"You sure that's all?"

Theo laughed and got up. "We're all leaving here at 11, ok?"

"Yeah, alright."

Draco felt suddenly uncomfortable, like people were suddenly paying more attention to every little thing he did. He didn't care for it. He, too, left and went back to their common room where he saw Hermione lounging in a chair, reading.

"Hey, Draco," she announced as he was about to walk by. She didn't even look up.

"Hi," he said as he paused. "Doing a little light reading?" he jabbed. He couldn't help it. The book she was holding was a good three inches thick.

"You git, I'm reading up on some spells for Dueling Club. This book tells about the history and uses of the most commonly used spells."

"Dueling Club already?"

"You can never be too prepared," she replied in a sing-song voice.

"Swot," he chuckled.

"What are you doing today?"

"I need to write my mother back and I might go flying since the weather is nice."

"Alright. I'm going out with Neville to do some shopping in Hogsmeade. Need anything?"

Her question took him aback. He hesitated for a moment.

"You could always bring back some candy. I'll pay you back."

"What kind?"

"Oh, just whatever looks good."

"Right. Ok, well, I'll let you know when I get back."

"Sounds good."

He went to his room and closed the door, leaning his head back on it.

Merlin, he really _was_ friends with Granger. He spied the wrapped book on his desk. He was sure she would like it. He shouldn't have gotten her something else, should he? Hermione didn't seem like the kind of girl who liked flowers and jewellery and anyway he didn't want to send the wrong message. He sat down at his desk and penned a letter to his mother to let him know how his classes were going and left in time it to head to the owlery and then straight to the main entrance to meet Theo and some of the others, the book tucked under his arm.

The other girls left to take a walk around the grounds late that morning and Hermione was slightly put out that she wasn't invited even though she had plans anyway. She didn't see any of them as she went to meet Neville, but she was excited to go out for lunch and walk around the familiar sights of Hogsmeade. She hadn't been back to visit since the repairs were done aside from quick walk through on the day she came back to school.

She and Neville went to the apothecary, Honeydukes, and then the book store before he nudged her out the door to go to lunch. As she walked through the doors of the Three Broomsticks, she couldn't believe her eyes.

"Surprise! Surprise!" came shouts from around the room. Streamers and balloons were everywhere and from above her head a balloon full of confetti exploded, showing her and Neville with bits of colored paper. Her face could barely contain her smile. As she looked around, she saw that everyone in her year was there, plus Ginny, Luna, and even Harry and Ron.

The four of them greeted her with a hug and welcomed her into the pub. Blaise brought her out a Butterbeer once she was seated at a table near the bar.

"For the birthday girl," he announced as he handed her a mug with a smile.

"Thank you," she warbled, clearly touched.

"Alright, now that Hermione is here," announced Ginny, "lunch will be served buffet style and we don't need to head back to the castle until dinner at 6. Have fun and don't do anything stupid or I'll have to report you." With a cheeky grin, she pulled up a chair next to Hermione and squeezed her around the shoulders.

"How did you manage it, Gin?"

"I got permission from McGonagall, of course. I knew you would be upset if we were breaking all sorts of rules." She winked at her friend and got up as Harry and Ron approached.

"This was all Ginny's brilliant idea," Harry admitted. "We had the afternoon off, so here we are."

"It's so good to see you both!" She stood up and wrapped the two of them in a friendly hug. "How is training?"

"A bit hard," admitted Ron. "But s'fine. We're learning loads of ways to track criminals and combat dark magic. Speaking of which," he looked over at Draco who was talking with Daphne about something, "why is the ferret here?"

"My whole group is here," Hermione replied curtly. "And anyway, _Draco_ is my friend now." She emphasized his name to prove her point.

"Malfoy? You've got to be serious."

Just then Draco walked over to them, having heard his name.

"Potty and Weasel, here to make a fuss?" he drawled.

"Go away, ferret, you weren't invited into this conversation."

Hermione grabbed Draco's elbow, surprising him momentarily.

"He was invited here just like you, Ron."

"Hermione and I study together almost every day," he smirked. "She finally gets to work with an equal."

Harry rolled his eyes. "You wouldn't have dared to sully yourself before, Malfoy."

Hermione went white.

"I apologised to her already, Potter. We've moved on even if you lot haven't."

"Bloody hell," sighed Ron. "You're serious?"

"Yes," they answered at the same time.

"Hermione," Blaise squeezed in between her and Draco. "Food is out and the birthday girl gets to go first." He guided her over to the table and handed her a plate.

The three wizards continued to stare at one another uncomfortably.

"A truce then," said Harry, putting his hand forward.

Draco narrowed his eyes, but shook the other man's hand. "For Hermione," he clarified.

Ron didn't put his hand forward, but Draco didn't push for it. It was enough to avoid a potential squabble on Hermione's birthday.

The party ended up a roaring success. After they ate, Hermione was further surprised by several thoughtful gifts. Neville, Terry, and Ernie had went in together and got her a set for her desk: smart-looking ink pots that were charmed to never spill, several quills with rather unique feathers, and a crisp roll of 50 yards of parchment that could be cut to size. Theo had gifted her a cashmere scarf with all four house colours. The girls had given her a funny card that contained a gift cheque to a lingerie shop in the village, which made Hermione blush. She thanked them without letting the guys know what it was. Ginny gave her a conspiratorial wink. Harry and Ron, along with the rest of the Weasley family, had given her a new traveling cloak that was charmed to keep you warm in the winter and cool in the summer. As things were winding down, Draco found himself hesitating. He still hadn't given Hermione the book that was still sitting beneath his robe on a chair. He had found his gaze drawn to her all that afternoon, whether he was near her or not, and found it troubling when Blaise quietly called him on it.

"Afraid she might disappear, Draco?"

"Fuck off, Blaise. I was just thinking about something else."

"Like whether she'd let you go lingerie shopping with her?"

Draco's ears grew red at the tips.

"What?"

"Oh, you didn't see what the girls gave her. Daphne told me about it." He waggled his eyebrows in a way that made Draco uneasy.

"Whatever, I don't want to know. No, I was thinking about the fact that any time I see the Weasel, it's too soon."

"You weren't making that sort of face, you lying arse."

"Which kind is that?"

"The look that you're giving me right now." He cackled and went back to the bar where Luna and Mandy were waiting for refills.

Across the room, Ron nudged Harry.

"Malfoy keeps staring."

"Maybe he's afraid you're going to hex him."

"No one is hexing anyone today," Hermione said to them imperiously. She was currently sitting on the other side of Ron. She'd spent most of the afternoon flitting from one group to the next, making sure to thank everyone personally for making her day so special, and was presently listening to how their training was going. In some ways she was pleased to hear that it wasn't quite as easy as they'd thought. She looked up finally and caught Draco's eye before he looked away. What _was_ he on about? Before she had time to think about it, Ginny and Luna drew her into a silly game of charades that eventually everyone was coerced to participate in. Many belly laughs later, Ginny sadly announced that it was time for them to head back to the castle. Ron and Harry bid their farewells and the rest of the group began the trek back to the massive gates that marked the boundaries of Hogwarts.

Hermione was chatting with Luna as they walked along the well-travelled path when she felt someone tug at the back of her sleeve. As she turned to see Draco behind her, Luna said something about needing to check on the thestrals and wandered away.

"What's wrong, Malfoy? Oh, right, before I forget…" She grinned sheepishly and pulled a small sack of candy out of her bag. "These are for you."

"But it's your birthday."

"I'm not allowed to give anyone a gift on my birthday?"

"Well, of course you can…" he admitted. "But I do have something for you. It's a bit silly, so I didn't want to give it to you in front of everyone." He produced a wrapped gift that he'd been holding under his robes.

She tried to hide any sign of surprise. "Thank you, Malfoy. That's very thoughtful of you."

"Perhaps you ought to save your thanks until after you've opened it. Maybe I gave you a cursed quill that only makes you write wrong answers."

She snorted and took the package from him. It was most definitely some sort of book, from its shape and heft. She gently undid the spellotape so as to not tear the paper unnecessarily. It smelled faintly of what she suspected was his cologne, a blend of vetiver and.. cloves? She couldn't be sure. As she unwrapped it, her eyes grew wide. There in her hands was the newest arithmancy book that she'd been secretly coveting every time she entered a bookstore.

She squeaked with joy.

"I take it that you like it?"

She shrieked and wrapped him in a gloriously tight hug.

"You sneaky bastard, you knew full well that I wanted this book."

"I may have heard you mention it once or twice," he smirked. Her hair was tickling his nose, but he found that he didn't mind overly much.

"Tosh," she laughed and kissed him on the cheek before letting go of him. "Well, thank you. I might even let you read it when I'm done." She didn't look over at him to see the dimple in his cheek threatening to betray his usual mask of indifference.

"I must be special if Hermione Granger is willing to lend me her books," he quipped.

"Prat."

Both of them were secretly pleased, Hermione because she had a lovely new book that she was presently clutching to her chest like it was her child. She felt like she finally had a friend who knew her deepest desires. Oh, she loved her other gifts and they were quite lovely, but this was something different: it was like the gift of knowledge itself, which she valued above all else.

Draco was pleased because she actually liked his gift, which made him feel strangely warm all over. He knew that she tended to be affectionate toward her friends, so he was likewise finally certain that they were close enough for her to attack with her tiny arms and bushy hair. It was nicer than when he'd jokingly throttled her at the lake. Was it because he knew he'd made her happy? Or was it because of the tiniest of kisses that had briefly dotted his cheek? He tried not to dwell on it as they walked to the heavy doors.

Dinner was the usual fare although several of the professors and younger students wished her a happy birthday. She was exiting the hall when she encountered Professor Snape.

"Many happy returns, Miss Granger," he said quietly.

"Thank you, sir," she beamed.

He raised an eyebrow and stalked away. Nonplussed, when she entered the common room several minutes later, she was still smiling broadly.

"Having a good day, then?" Neville asked. He was currently playing exploding snap with Ernie. Terry, and Theo.

"The best. Thank you all so much!"

"So what did Draco give you?" inquired Theo.

"Oh, a book that I'd really wanted."

Theo couldn't resist teasing her. "Isn't that a bit boring?"

"It's perfect," she huffed.

Draco, who'd overheard the whole thing from his room, smiled again.

* * *

**2 October 1998**

The students were loitering outside the door to a large empty classroom on the third floor. They were chattering in excited whispers when the door was flung open and out stepped Professor Snape.

"If you're going to just stand there all night, I'll gladly go back to grading your essays," he drawled.

The students scrambled for the door, pouring into the room like sand into an hourglass. Professor Martinez was already at the front of the room with the poise of a dancer. She was dressed in fine dueling robes of pale green with a crest sewn onto it that Hermione recognised as representing the Thunderbird house of Ilvermorny. (She had done some light reading when she'd returned to Hogwarts and learned they'd have a professor from there.)

"Welcome, students, to the first meeting of this year's Dueling Club," she announced with a gleaming smile. "You'll be paired off with others from your own year and will start with basic hexes that most of you should be able to either dodge or deflect. Each pair will be given permission to advance to more difficult ones after we ascertain your capabilities. We'll finish the evening with a _friendly_ duel between Professor Snape and myself."

Severus felt his lip curl up into a sneer. She was asking to get her arse handed to her and he didn't mind being the first to do so. A few of the older students caught the small exchange and snickered.

She called the groups of students forward by year and separated them quickly into pairs, asking them to keep a reasonable distance from the other couples. Of the Eighth Years, only Hermione, Draco, Terry, and Ernie were present. Hermione was paired with Terry, and Draco with Ernie. The four of them quickly moved on to more elaborate hexes and eventually many of the youngest students stopped to watch them. The professors noted this and announced that now each pair is to attempt to simply disarm their opponent, no other hexes or jinxes allowed, and the winner from each duel was to remain standing while those who lost were to take a seat. Soon everyone was engaged in battle once more and in the end Hermione and Ernie were among those seated. She gave her classmate a sheepish grin.

"He got lucky that time," she chuckled.

"Same," was the reply.

The winners were congratulated and yet reminded that perhaps they will be among those who were seated the next time. Everyone was then invited to stand off to the side to watch their professors duel. Hermione was especially curious. She'd not seen Snape participate in a friendly duel since he trounced Lockhart her second year, though that was hardly a difficult thing to pull off. Draco had somehow ended up behind her and teased her for not winning her own duel.

"Mind your own business, Malfoy. You're just sorry that you were with Ernie and not me."

"Pfft, as if I couldn't handle you. Maybe next time, hmm?"

A hush fell as Snape and Martinez bowed to one another, both of them equal parts dramatic and serious. Snape was poised like a snake ready to strike, his dark eyes trained upon the Defence professor. She was smiling as usual, though now it was a much tighter one. She seemed confident, but not overly so. When she finally cast a simple Flipendo, Snape blocked it with an elegant turn of his wand. He waited again. She tried a jelly-legs jinx, but he once more cast a shield in record time. He was watching her, learning her style. In a surprising move, she, too, grew still. He was not the only one who could wait. A few minutes past and some of the younger students were growing restless. Snape cast a rapid leg-locker curse, but she dodged it, her cape gracefully floating as she leaped to the side. She volleyed with a stinging hex, just barely grazing the side of his knee. His eyes narrowed. Wordlessly, he moved his wand in a pattern that Hermione recognised as a Stickfast hex. Professor Martinez, who was watching for his mouth to open, suddenly found her feet firmly fixed to the floor and wobbled as she attempted to stay upright. Whatever Severus Snape was expecting next, he did not expect his opponent to begin laughing.

"Merlin, you got me with the oldest trick in the book. I used to do this to my younger brother when he would try to follow me around in school."

She cancelled the curse and the two professors shook hands. It looked almost amicable. Snape dismissed the students a few minutes later, reminding them that if they were not in their common rooms by curfew, they'd be serving detention with Filch all next week.

"Well, that was a friendly way to end the evening," Martinez said quietly as she moved beside him.

"What?"

"Threatening them like that."

"Well, they need to respect the rules. There were a number of students here tonight who like to do as they please and just because we're no longer at war doesn't mean we ought to act like life is just one giant party."

"Have you always been like this? Like someone shoved a stick up your ass?"

"Always," he replied, tight-lipped. He stalked out of the room without further comment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter! The next one may take me a bit longer to get posted as my work load for the next week has jumped significantly and I'm trying to finish another story that I'm writing at the same time (because why do things simply?).
> 
> Be on the lookout for Chapter 8 sometime between the 12th and 19th of September.


	8. Pleasantries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dueling Club meets again, the Quidditch season begins, and feelings get more complicated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I own nothing pertaining to Harry Potter and the wizarding world and earn nothing from writing this bit of fiction.
> 
> Thanks for reading!

**16 October 1998**

The Eighth Years were sitting around their common room, having finished classes earlier than usual because Charms was cancelled. Apparently a fourth year had caused something to explode in the room and it was still being put to rights. Hardly put out by the extra time (well, Hermione still was, but she was the only one), they began to make plans for their upcoming Halloween party. They'd somehow managed to convince the Headmistress that after the usual school feast that they should be able to have their own party in their quarters. They had agreed that it did not have to be a costume party, but half of the group was currently arguing about rest of the content of said party. Daphne and Padma were set on making part of the room into a dance floor, but Terry thought it was silly since they were such a small number. Terry was then accused of just being put out because he wouldn't be able to invite a certain seventh year he'd had his eye on. He hotly denied it and was quickly mocked by Theo.

"Hey guys," said Neville hesitantly, hoping they'd get the gist. He rolled his eyes as they continued. "That's enough!" he finally shouted.

None of them had yet gotten used to this side of Neville, but that's when they remembered that he was the one who chopped that vile snake's head off.

"What if Blaise could help?" asked Draco. Several heads swiveled in his direction. "He could get us some Butterbeer, we use half of the room for dancing and the other half with couches and tables for games and eating. Whoever wants to decorate can do it and if you don't help, you can't complain about how it looks. And I vote we put Theo in charge of music."

Hermione was the first to agree to everything, wanting to bring an end to the bickering. Theo gave her a little smirk that was not missed. Mandy and Ernie were put in charge of decorations since they were the most artistic, Neville and Hannah were to organise the games, and Draco was to contact Blaise. At the end of the meeting, Mandy and Ernie moved to a small table in the corner to begin their own discussion. Hermione went back to her room to lay down until it was time for dinner. Her respite lasted all of ten minutes when there was a knock at her door. With a groan, she hoisted herself out of bed and opened it.

"Hermione," it was Daphne. "Ginny is outside wanting to see you." She thanked the blonde for the message and went out to see her friend. Ginny had some hot gossip that she was dying to share and wanted to remind Hermione of the next quidditch match between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw the following weekend because apparently Ron and Harry had likewise promised to come.

* * *

That evening was also the second meeting of Dueling Club. Hermione's palms were decidedly less sweaty when she arrived, but the look on Professor Snape's face was hardly reassuring.

"Professor Martinez sends her regrets," Snape droned, not seeming at all interested in what he was saying, "but she was unable to be here tonight due to a family emergency."

Several students wore looks of concern, but he didn't elaborate and they didn't dare ask.

"Who can show everyone how to cast a Tickling Hex?" he continued.

Ginny Weasley tentatively raised her hand and was invited to the front of the room.

"Go on, Miss Weasley, show everyone the wand movement first without saying the words."

She did as instructed, carefully explaining which way to slice the wand before flicking in a downward fashion.

"And why is this a useful hex, Miss Weasley?"

"Because it requires tight wand movement and is less obvious than some other hexes, sir. Also because it is unexpected and causes no lasting harm."

"Now, do it once more, up to speed this time and try to cast it on me."

She gave her friends a dubious look before turning her attention to the dour professor. She cast correctly, but of course he quickly deflected it.

"This is what I want you to work on for the time being. If some of you are having difficulty with your shield charms, I will attempt to assist you. If you are hexed, the caster is required to cancel the spell immediately. While it's harmless, I refuse to have to listen to your shrieking the entire evening."

Snape's snide remarks, while derisive as usual, were a comfort to some students, Hermione included, in a time of so many changes. She was paired off with Ernie for the first fifteen minutes, but they were requested to change once more to someone they hadn't yet dueled with, which meant she had to face Draco. She swallowed nervously.

"Alright, Granger, hex me like you mean it," he quipped.

"I _always_ mean it." And she let loose a rapid hex which Draco barely managed to block in time. By now a few other students now and again had broken into laughter as they failed to block the spell. His eyes narrowed in concentration as he fired back at her, but she was ready. He tried again and, instead of blocking it, hexed him at nearly the same time which meant that both of them were hit.

Neither Hermione nor Draco could stop laughing long enough to cancel the spell, but Luna who was nearby felt pity and did it for them.

"Miss Granger and Mister Malfoy, come here please," intone Professor Snape.

Exchanging a glance, they made their way through the flying hexes to their professor.

"Since the two of you think you're too clever to take turns, I think it's time that we move on to something more interesting." The man's sneer made them a bit nervous. "Alright students, Mr. Malfoy and Miss Granger are going to demonstrate for you the Silencing charm. It's proved an effective way to keep other wizards from being able to curse you, unless they are able to do nonverbal spells."

Hermione knew this full well as it had saved her life in her duel against Dolohov when she was sixteen.

"Professor, are we allowed to practice nonverbal spells as well?"

The older wizard snorted in amusement. "Feeling the need to show off?"

"No, professor. But it was you who taught us a few nonverbal spells in sixth year and I thought it would be good practise." She knew she had him there. Draco watched them with fixed attention. Not many people would willingly challenge Snape, but he knew that Hermione was a special case.

"It is up to Mr. Malfoy," he said slowly after a moment of silence.

"You're on, Granger," Draco smirked.

The students stood back a bit to watch the duel. Most of them had heard that the two of them were both quite good and were eager to see who would come out on top.

The two of them bowed and then stood poised as statues, wand raised in the correct stance for a duel.

It was Draco that moved first. The rapid flick that some of the younger students barely registered accompanied by a shout was countered expertly by Hermione. She volleyed back in a succession of attempts to silence him, though he blocked them one after the other.

"Is that all you've got?" he taunted.

Hermione frowned and cast another Silencio followed by a large shield, effectively blocking the charm aimed at her. They moved as if conveyed by an invisible circular track like figurines in a cuckoo clock. The air in the room was tense as the minutes passed, neither able to successfully silence the other. Fifteen minutes into the duel, both were sweaty, their wands grasped tightly for fear of it slipping. Another two minutes. Draco missed his target, the edge of a shield not well maintained. And then finally he hit her. Fury erupted on her face as her mouth moved in a shout that couldn't come out.

"Well done, Mr. Malfoy," commented their professor. "Miss Granger, you have five minutes to incapacitate your opponent."

Draco quickly erected another shield as he narrowed his gaze. He knew that she could do it. The question was what she would try to hit him with. Her wandwork was just as tight as his and possibly more precise, though with far less emotion. Usually. The present look on her face, though, reminded him of an angry hippogriff, which he had the misfortune of knowing all about.

She fired off a sequence of hexes. He decided at that moment that it didn't matter what she was going to send at him; he just needed to block them or get out of the way. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed that Snape had erected a protective barrier to separate them from the other students. Draco's own sense of self-preservation wanted to get behind it as well, but he had his pride. A flash of light burst past him and he realised he needed to get his head on straight or he'd likely land in the hospital wing.

Hermione was playing with him, casting the most boring things she had mastered, while relishing the fact that he looked actually intimidated. Being silent had its benefits if your wrist was quick enough. She saw a smirk playing at the corner of Professor Snape's mouth as if he'd been reading her every move. This time she sent a Body Bind curse, then a Leg Locker, Jelly Legs, an Expelliarmus. At last she tried a stinging hex and caught him square on his wand hand. He howled in pain like a wounded dog and she bent double in silent laughter. Snape removed the shield and lifted her curse.

"Your face, Malfoy," she wheezed. The other students were laughing as well.

He wanted to be angry and knew that in the past it would have been his immediate reflex. But the sight of her in tears as she laughed somehow lessened the affront to his pride. Instead he walked to her and shook her hand as they both turned to face Professor Snape.

"You were not as rusty as I feared." Both of them wore expressions of surprise at the hidden praise. "The next time," he announced to the group, "we will attempt group dueling. You are dismissed."

The students trickled out of the room, but Hermione stayed behind.

"Is there a problem, Miss Granger?"

"No, I simply wanted to thank you, sir."

"For?"

"Your kind remarks after the duel."

Snape stared at her for a moment.

"I thought it best to wait until everyone else was gone," she continued.

His eyebrow quirked. "Anything else you feel the need to tell me?"

"Dueling Club was brilliant, even without Professor Martinez."

He sighed. "You realise I am immune to your absurd remarks."

"I thought you'd like some honest feedback. Well, good night, professor."

She skipped away, not waiting for the reply she wouldn't get.

Severus groaned after she was gone. Bloody Gryffindors. He liked it much better when she hated him.

* * *

The common room was quiet when Hermione returned. She assumed that most of the students must be visiting elsewhere. Terry Boot was in a chair reading by the fire, absorbed in a travel documentary of South America that he'd ben working his way through for the past week.

"Nice one," he called over to her.

"Hmm?"

"I thought you were going to hex his ears off. Abbot had to give Malfoy some salve for his hand. Served him right." He sounded smug.

"It was a lucky shot," she shrugged. "Is he in his room?"

"I think he went somewhere with Nott."

"Oh. Alright." She'd been hoping they could finish the Runes assignment after Dueling Club, but had forgotten to mention it. It wasn't like he couldn't go out with his other friends, though. "I have some homework to finish. Have a good evening."

Boot gave her a nod and went back to his reading, his conversation with Hermione immediately forgotten.

It was near midnight and she was still at her desk writing when she heard a quiet knocking on her door. She put her quill back in its stand and went to answer. It was Draco who was holding something bundled in a napkin.

"You weren't asleep, were you?"

"No, I was writing my essay for Defence."

"Are you hungry?" He looked past her into her room. It was strange seeing her space cluttered with piles of books, parchment everywhere, a few photos on her desk, some of which didn't move. Those interested him the most.

"Did you come here for the tour?"

He stopped gawking at her room and shifted his gaze back to her. "Do you like currant scones?"

It was a stupid question. She ate them all the time.

"Well, yes."

"Here." He thrust the napkin at her. She peered at it with suspicion.

"We went down to the kitchen," he explained awkwardly.

"Ah. Did you need something else?"

He looked a bit flustered and she hoped she hadn't left anything embarrassing lying about.

"Could I borrow your Transfiguration notes from yesterday?"

"Are you bribing me with food?"

"You got me there, Granger."

She chuckled. "Well, it'll work this time. Hold on, let me find it. Your hand alright?"

She opened the door the rest of the way and left him standing in the doorway while she located yesterday's parchment.

"Yeah, I'm fine now. Abbot patched me up."

She caught him staring at something on her desk when she turned back to him.

"What's wrong, never seen a girl's room before?" she snickered.

"Of course I have, I-"

"Nevermind," she interrupted. "I don't want to know."

He smirked and took the parchment she was holding out.

"So what's so interesting then?"

"Some of your photos don't move."

"Because they're Muggle photos, you dolt." She grabbed the closest one and shoved it toward him.

He held the frame gingerly in his hand as if it might combust.

"I can see the resemblance," he said quietly. It was one of Hermione when she was younger, maybe after third or fourth year, with a couple he could only assume were her parents. He handed it back to her. "They must be proud of you."

"Er… yeah, something like that," she said quickly and sat it back on her desk. "Have a good night then. Thanks for the scone." She ushered him backwards and hastily closed the door. With a sigh she collapsed onto her bed, head in her hands. She wished she wouldn't have picked up that one. Tears fell from her eyes as she looked at the small photograph on her lap. She missed them. What if they were never able to remember her?

Draco went back to his room, confused. Had he said something wrong? How could her parents not be proud of her? She helped win a war, she was one of the best students in the school (he'd never admit openly, even to himself, that she was probably _the_ best), and everyone knew she'd go on to do great things. Maybe he should ask Weaselette the next time they had class together.

* * *

**24 October 1998**

The Gryffindor/Ravenclaw match was the first game of the season and Hermione was there in the stands cheering on her friend Ginny who'd continued to play as chaser for her House. Ron and Harry were there beside her, shouting even louder than she. After a spectacular two hours of play in which neither team gained a large advantage, the snitch was spotted by the Ravenclaw seeker, Melinda Bates, and she began streaking toward it. Unfortunately for her, the movement signaled the new Gryffindor seeker, a third year by the name of Martin, who raced after it as well. Martin had the advantage of being in the almost direct path of the snitch as he shot forward, practically laying flat on his broom to gain speed. Just as the Ravenclaw nearly collided with him, he grabbed at the winged ball of gold and won the game. Harry and Ron were beside themselves, shouting congratulatory remarks to anyone in scarlet robes. Hermione made sure to cheer for Ginny one last time before excusing herself from her friends. Quidditch always made her cold and tired and she had nearly shouted herself hoarse.

As she made her way back to the castle, Hermione spotted Draco with a group of younger Slytherins, mostly girls. They were standing off to the side of the worn path, listening intently to whatever he was saying. She'd considered walking past without so much as a nod when he called over to her.

"Who won?"

"Gryffindor, of course," she smirked.

"Damn, I was hoping to have something to tease Weaselette about."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Looks like you'll have to try harder, Ferret."

"Hey, I thought we were friends now," he grumbled.

"I dunno, are we?"

"You're impossible, Granger."

"Takes one to know one. Have fun doing… whatever you're doing."

She continued her trek back up to the castle when she suddenly changed course, heading instead toward the edge of the forest. She had warmed considerably from walking at a good pace and was thinking of turning back when she her someone panting for breath behind her. She pulled out her wand and shouted "Stupify!"

Draco shielded himself just in time.

"You should know better than to sneak up on me," she snipped.

"I didn't know gasping for breath constituting sneaking. You walk fast. Did you know that?"

"Why are you following me?"

"I wanted to apologise. I talked to Wease- er, the girl Weasley and she told me what happened. With your parents."

"I don't want to talk about it, but thank you."

"It's fine. I didn't think you would. But.. well… if you need to sometime, I could listen."

She knew a peace offering when she heard one.

"Thanks, Malfoy. Maybe some day."

"Do you come here a lot? Out here, I mean."

"No. I tend to avoid it."

He nodded solemnly. "Yeah." She continued to stand there in silence. "I really am sorry," he repeated.

"You didn't know. I'm not angry about it," she said at last.

"Should I leave you alone?"

"It's probably best no one sees you here with me."

"Why's that?"

"People will talk."

"After you've already proven that you can do nonverbal hexes?"

"I got lucky."

"Maybe. But you're an intimidating witch to have to duel."

"Is that a compliment, Draco Malfoy?"

"If you want it to be," he replied cheekily.

"I think it's better if I don't."

"Why is that?"

"I might get the wrong idea about you."

"How's that?"

"That perhaps you're even less of a prat than I thought."

"I study with you. I made some sort of peace treaty with your friends. How does this make me a prat?" He was practically whinging and she found herself really enjoying it.

"It's genetic. You can't help it."

"It's gen-what?"

"Genetic. Traits that you inherit from your parents, grandparents… Look it up sometime."

"Not everyone can be a walking dictionary, Granger."

"I am _not_ a walking dictionary. I just read a bigger variety of books than you."

Sometime during their banter, they'd both turned to walk back to the castle together, casually falling into step as they slowly ambled up the hill. They were nearing the castle when a few students loitering by the door spotted them.

"Did he hurt you, Granger?" one of them asked menacingly when they approached.

"What? No!" she replied, shocked.

"Bugger off," Draco growled at them.

"What are you going to do to us, Death Eater? They should have locked you up."

"You know why they didn't?" Hermione asked imperiously, rounding on them with her wand drawn. "Because myself and Harry Bloody Potter testified on his behalf. So you can just sod off and crawl back into the hole you came from."

She looked livid. Even Draco was a bit frightened. The students in question scattered like cockroaches. She lowered her wand and exhaled slowly.

"Sorry, that was out of line," she apologised to Draco.

"What? No! That was fantastic. It helps that it wasn't directed at me, of course." He was grinning at her and it threw her off.

"You're not angry that I ruined your machismo?"

"My machy-huh?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Your manly prowess, Malfoy. Ugh, you're supposed to be my _smart_ friend."

"You think I'm manly?"

"Oh good Godric. I can't take any more of you!"

"But you almost laughed just then. Admit it. _And_ you also said I'm your smart friend."

"I said that you're _supposed_ to be. But obviously I mistook you for Ron." She was having immense difficultly keeping a straight face just then as she saw her oldest best friends approaching them.

"You take that back, Granger. Don't you dare compare me to that ginger-"

"I'd be careful how I finish that sentence if I were you," he suddenly heard behind him.

He turned to see none other than the Red Menace and Scar Head coming out of the door. He probably shouldn't keep thinking of them that way for his own safety, but old habits die hard.

"We were just having a laugh, weren't we Granger?"

"You mean _I_ was having a laugh. You were just being a prat."

"You know what?" Harry interrupted them. "This is awkward. We were just saying our goodbyes to Ginny, so I suppose we'll say bye now to you as well."

Hermione chortled at Harry's obvious discomfort. "It was good seeing you both." She gave them each a quick hug.

"Ponce," snorted Ron, looking straight at Draco.

"Git."

"Take care, Hermione," Harry said as he pulled Ron along.

"You didn't have to be rude," she chided Draco after they were out of earshot.

"Me? What about them?"

"Well it's hardly normal for them that I'm friends with you."

"And that's my fault?"

"Of course it is."

"What did I do?"

"I dunno, became civil?"

"I'd rather us go back to talking about how manly I am." He smirked handsomely, quite on purpose.

"You really are a git still, sometimes." She gave him a shove and followed him inside.

When they got back to the common room, she joined the other girls who were chatting by the fire about the upcoming party. She found herself actually looking forward to it and began eagerly sharing some ideas that she'd had. Her eyes now and again drifted to the door Draco had disappeared behind. She'd actually really enjoyed their time together today. Maybe it's because she felt like he meant it when he apologised. Maybe it was because she was able to tease him back. Mandy asked if she were distracted by something, but she denied it and turned her full attention back to the other girls.

Draco had went back to his room feeling light on his feet, thoughts preoccupied with his curly-haired… friend? It still felt like a strange moniker for her. It had been fun teasing her like that, though. And the looks on the faces of those two goons she called her best friends had been priceless. She seemed to enjoy that as well, so what did that say about her? He peeled off his many layers and pulled on a pair of warm pajamas. His mind kept replaying her display of fiery indignation directed at those other students and her adorable apology to him afterward. Adorable…? Did he think she was…? Groaning, he rubbed his eyes. He felt exhausted. Cursing the fact forgot to brush his teeth, he threw on a thick bathrobe and strode to the bathroom on his side of the hall. The girls were still huddled about the sofa and some chairs discussing Salazar knows what. He noticed out of the corner of his eye that the noise from his door opening and closing made a few of them look his way for a moment, Hermione included. As he brushed his teeth, he studied his face in the mirror. He supposed he was alright enough, even if he did need a bit of a shave. His thoughts drifted back to Hermione. He knew from the whispering around the school that a lot of girls thought he was handsome. But did she? He rinsed his mouth, convincing himself that it was irrelevant. When he walked back through, only Hermione looked up. He winked at her and she smiled back. She had a really cute smile, he thought to himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Oh hey, I finished this one on time! Phew! Let me know if you enjoyed it. The next chapter will arrive between 26-30 September.


	9. Butterbeer-laden Whispers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hallowe'en party time: the students have fun, Snape grumbles, and Hermione finally gives him the get-well gift she'd bought during the summer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I own nothing pertaining to Harry Potter and the wizarding world and earn nothing from writing this bit of fiction.
> 
> Thanks for reading!

**26 October 1998**

It was nearing Severus Snape's least favourite day of the year. So many awful things had found its birth on that day. And _that_ was why every year, after the Hallowe'en feast, he allowed himself an unopened bottle of Ogden's Finest with a hangover potion on hand for the following morning. It was a small indulgence, really, but one that he clung to like a miser with his gold. So when Professor McGonagall announced in passing at breakfast that morning that the eighth years would be having their own party after the feast and that he would be required to chaperone, he felt like a child who had been told that Christmas was cancelled. Who cared about what he wanted to do? Who cared about his traditions? As if he hadn't given enough for those dunderheads already, now he was asked to chaperone their little soirée with not even a week's notice.

He had already told off one fifth year during his first class on the day about the way he was mincing his potions ingredients and gave out three detentions to some first years who thought they were being funny by making faces behind his back. He would hand them off to Filch that night with glee. His later classes had already heard about his mood and were extraordinarily careful to not put a stirring rod out of line.

It was nearing 5 o'clock when he received a summons to the Headmistress' office.

"Treacle Toffee," he snarled at the gargoyle. A nearby portrait rolled their eyes.

He entered the room in a fine sulk, sure that he was about to scolded for something.

"Oh hello, Severus," the wrinkled witch greeted him, sounding as if she didn't just more or less force him to come to his office. "Do sit down. Butter biscuit?"

He declined and stalked to the chair in front of the bureau. Minerva McGonagall, who had known him most of his life and thus also knew his moods, looked him over and found that "petulant" seemed to be the most appropriate adjective of the day.

"I assume your display today is because of what I said this morning?"

"I believe that when I returned, I requested to continue to have Hallowe'en night off. Permanently."

"It's just the once."

"They're adults. I don't see why they need babysitting," he groused.

_Yes_ , she thought to herself. _Definitely petulant._

"It's not babysitting, Severus. You're there to make sure that no one does anything… regrettable. I assume that they can handle their Butterbeer, but that's not my only concern."

At the mention of Butterbeer his eyebrow raised.

"Mr. Zabini is providing them with Butterbeer, but I was assured that would be all." She paused and assessed how to best go about the rest of the conversation. "Severus, I appreciate that you have become generally less volatile around the students and sometimes they have indeed warranted their punishments, but being that it seemed a bit extreme today, I'm afraid that if this happens again I'm going to have to ask you to take a few days off. We're all battling our own demons now that the war is over, but I ask that you learn a better way to go about it."

"Is that everything, Minerva?" he asked with a sigh. In some ways she was right, but now wasn't the time to give her reason to gloat.

"No, I wanted to talk to you about Dueling Club. How is it going?"

"Not terribly. The students came back for the second time, so it must not be unbearable."

"I overheard that there was a rather spectacular duel between Miss Granger and Mr. Malfoy. How did that come about?"

'They had managed to hex each other at the same time while everyone else was taking turns as expected, so I thought I would give them the chance to actually duel each other."

"Congratulations in making sure that they didn't actually kill one another."

"That doesn't seem to be much of a risk this year."

She tilted her head as if waiting for an explanation.

"They've taken to studying together this year."

"And you're certain that's a good idea?"

"It doesn't seem to be doing either of them any harm."

"No… I suppose not. They're both doing well in their studies so I've heard." She nodded as she spoke. "So has Miss Granger made up her mind about what she would like to do after Hogwarts?"

"Not to my knowledge. I suppose we're overdue for another…. chat." He spat the last word.

"And how is working for Professor Martinez for Dueling Club?"

"Considering it was only one time, it was tolerable."

"Honestly, Severus, you need to stop being so prickly with everyone."

"She isn't exactly a gentle lamb."

"Well, no, but… nevermind. I expect you handle yourself with decorum for the rest of term."

He rose to his feet, feeling dismissed. "Headmistress," he flatly replied. He bowed and saw himself out.

* * *

**31 October 1998**

The party was off to a good start. The music was already going and a floating disco ball was beaming down varicoloured streaks of light in time with the beat. The counter of the kitchenette was overflowing with sweets from Honeydukes as well as varied foods left from the feast and a large keg of Butterbeer. Padma was trying to convince Blaise, who hadn't left yet, to dance with her and Hannah and Neville was at a table with Terry and Ernie, engaged in a special edition of exploding snap that would spray the loser with confetti spiders. Mandy and Daphne were close by, howling with laughter at something Theo was saying. Hermione was hovering by the snacks, contemplating which little group to join, when a knock sounded at the door. She was the closest, so she answered, peeking out through a crack until she saw Snape looming outside.

"Professor?" questioned Hermione as she opened the door wider. She had her hair tied up with purple and black ribbons and a pair of blinking ghost earrings dangled from her ears.

He stepped past her into the room as he took in the decor. It was an obnoxious mix of streamers, paper bats charmed to fly about at irregular intervals, and a raucous music and lights show that he hadn't been able to hear from outside the room. _Well, at least they've learned something_ , he acknowledged. A few of them wore festive accessories like novelty headbands or light-up bracelets.

"Help yourself to the food on the counter," Hermione jabbered at him, the only one daring to even look straight at him. Everyone else had momentarily frozen when he entered the common room, aside from Draco who was sitting by himself on a sofa that was turned to face the fireplace. "There's Butterbeer and–"

"I'm sure I can figure it out, Miss Granger," Snape interrupted, stalking to the kitchenette. If he had to be here, he might as well sample the fare and make it worth his while. The curmudgeonly wizard filled a small plate with snacks and looked for the least irritating place to sit, which happened to be on the same sofa as Draco as the other chairs and sofas were either presently occupied by other classmates or full of piles of things he couldn't be bothered to move.

"You look pleased to be here," Draco quipped. He was in a t-shirt and school trousers, a similar small plate in his lap and a mug of Butterbeer resting on a small table next to the sofa.

_He looks as thrilled as I do._ "Did I have a choice?"

Draco smirked, but said nothing.

"Why aren't you with your… friends?"

The young wizard shrugged. "I thought I'd be up for it, but I'm not so sure now."

Severus produced from a flask from a pocket in his cloak. "Don't tell Minerva," he mumbled and took a nip. The fire burned all the way down, just like he needed it to.

Another smirk. "Of course not."

The two of them passed over an hour together, sometimes in silence, sometimes in idle chatter. Snape had at some point removed his cloak, warmed from the hearth and the firewhisky. He rolled up his sleeves, earning some looks from a few of the students as they caught a glimpse of his forearm.

Draco looked down at the faded tattoos that they both sported. "I don't think anyone will bother us now."

"Don't count on it." He had sensed movement behind them. Sure enough, Hermione Granger eventually came into view and sat on the floor on the rug before them. She looked from one of them to the other.

"Am I interrupting something?"

"Hardly," came Snape's terse reply. Draco said nothing, watching the exchange.

"Would either of you like to play a game of charades with the others? I think we're going to start soon."

"I'd sooner die."

Hermione's eyes grew wide, catching him by surprise. In her mind, flashes of her professor near death on the floor of the Hogshead overwhelmed her. The gag-inducing stench of blood flooding her nostrils. The light slowly going out of his eyes.

She seemed catatonic, responding to neither of them for several minutes.

She could hear their voices, but they sounded far away, like she were at the bottom of a well. Darkness was closing in around her.

Hannah overheard the rising concern in their voices and hurried over.

"What did you do to her?" she hissed, eyeing them both with suspicion.

"I merely told her how uninterested I am in playing charades," Snape replied cooly.

"It's alright, Hermione," the girl was saying, gently touching Hermione's arms. "Breathe slowly. In. Out. It's alright, we're in the middle of a party." The brunette began to stir at Hanna's prompting. "Someone get her a glass of water."

Draco dutifully hurried across the room and came back with a small glass, handing it off.

"Here, Hermione." She pressed it into the other witch's hand. "Drink."

Hermione mechanically raised it to her lips and took small, slow sips. The room began to come back into focus and she squinted at the blonde witch.

"Alright now?" Hannah asked. Concerned eyes looked her over, glad to see a tiny smile on her friend's face.

"Yeah, alright. Thanks, Hannah." She pushed away the dreadful memories, a small shiver racing up her spine. Snape noticed, but said nothing.

Hannah gave her arm a squeeze and went back to join the others, pausing only to glare at the two men on the couch. Snape glared back. Who did she think she was trying to intimidate?

"Don't.. don't tell McGonagall," Hermione said softly.

"No, I should think not," he confirmed. "Although she is expecting us to have another discussion soon regarding your future."

The sudden change of subject was welcome.

"Of course. Please inform me of the day and time and I'll be by." She rose slowly to her feet and fixed Draco with a look. "Malfoy, would _you_ like to join us?" She tried to sound friendly, casual. She wouldn't dare say that she really did actually want him to play.

The blond wizard was watching her carefully, trying to read into her emotions.

"Yeah, I'll be there in just a minute."

She gave him a shy smile and scurried away.

Snape gave a snort and Draco clapped him on the shoulder.

"You have a way with witches, Godfather."

"Simpering little fools, most of them."

"I would hardly lump Granger in that category. But you've spent the last 8 years despising her, so why stop now?"

"I.. don't despise her. But I have no intention of playing stupid games."

"I don't think she's into games. She's filled out a bit, too, but she's still a bloody swot."

"Excuse me?"

"Don't tell me you haven't noticed."

"I'm not one to leer, Draco." He gave a pointed look. "Anyway, I'm old enough to be her father. And yours."

"Well, I haven't really been leering exactly. I try not to ogle girls who can knock me on my arse."

"That's the most intelligent thing you've said all week."

"Martinez doesn't seem the simpering sort either," he suggestively remarked.

"You've gone too far now, Draco," Snape growled.

"So I can talk about Granger, but not Martinez?"

" _Professor_ Martinez and I'd rather you not talk about either of them."

"Come off it, she's the only witch working here who isn't an old biddy."

"She's a pain in the arse, just as you are being. Now go play your idiotic game and leave me in peace."

"Alright, Godfather," he said with a wink, far more cheerful than he was earlier.

Snape gave him a fierce look and took another nip from his flask.

The students had gathered into two groups and were taking turns pulling a slip of parchment from a jar and acting out whatever had been written. It seemed rather juvenile to him, but it wasn't his party. Perhaps it was good for them. At least they were laughing together. All the same, the end of the party couldn't come too soon. He realised he'd nodded off when Draco tapped him on the arm saying "Professor, Professor". The music had been turned off and a few of the students were directing the chairs and tables back to their usual locations. He stretched as he stood and told Draco he was leaving.

Hermione was still there, helping Theo rearrange speaker wires. She noticed Snape standing up and had a thought. Maybe she'd had too much Butterbeer or maybe she had a bit more courage than usual. Telling Theo she'd be right back, she hurried to her room and grabbed her gift for the professor. It seemed as good a time as any. But when she returned, she didn't see him anywhere.

"What happened to Professor Snape?"

"He went to his quarters," Daphne answered.

"Oh rubbish," she grumped.

"If you hurry, you might catch him."

"Right, thanks."

She hurried out the door and looked up and down the corridor. He was nowhere to be seen. She had a vague memory of where to find his quarters and set off shuffling along the stone floor. There was painting of a phoenix who occasionally caught fire next to a portrait of grizzled old farmer. It was to he that she directed her gaze.

"Is Professor Snape in?"

"Supposin' he is?"

"I need to speak with him please."

"Doubtful he'd agree."

"Please." She asked as prettily as she could.

The painted man scoffed, but disappeared from view.

Several minutes later, a hidden door in the wall was flung open.

"What is it?" Snape barked. He looked down and saw the face of Hermione. He fought back the urge to roll his eyes. "Of course it's you. What do you want?"

"I'm terribly sorry, but I went to get something and when I'd returned you'd already gone so Daphne told me I should hurry, but you had already went to your rooms and by then.. well…"

"Breathe, Miss Granger."

She took a large breath and held out a lumpy package. He could smell the Butterbeer on her breath and it discomfited him.

"It's rather stupid of me, I know. I.. well.. it was a sort of 'get well' gift that I'd picked up in Australia, but that's rather awkward and then I sort of didn't get up the nerve to actually give it to you."

He eyed the gift, wondering if it might explode. He supposed it wouldn't since she'd brought it back with her from halfway around the world. He gingerly took it from her hand and undid the bit of paper around it. It was a small, pewter cauldron the size of an inkwell. He supposed that was what it was meant to be. Hermione fidgeted and he looked back up at her. She looked expectant, but more in the sense that she was likely about to be told off.

"Thank you," he said quietly.

She gave him a nervous smile. "You're welcome. Well, goodnight, Professor."

And she skittered down the hall before he could say anything else.

He went back into his apartments and sat the cauldron on one of his shelves for the moment. He found himself oddly touched by the gesture, as awkward as it was. He couldn't remember the last time someone other than his coworkers had given him a gift. He swished he knew why she'd had that sudden attack earlier. What had he said? _'I'd sooner die.'_ And here she'd gotten him a get well gift over the summer. After he'd nearly died. Salazar, he was a right bastard.

"Did you find him?" Daphne chirped when Hermione returned.

"Yeah, thanks." She busied herself by snagging a ghost-shaped cookie from the near-empty counter and taking a bite. Theo had already finished with the wires and went to his room.

Draco had been observing from his spot on the sofa, ending the evening much as he'd started it after he'd helped get the seating back to rights.

"Granger, bring me one of those," he called over to her.

Surprisingly, she picked up a second cookie and walked it over to him.

"Here you are, Malfoy."

"Not even a bit of righteous indignation saved up for me?"

"I'm afraid I'm all out for the night."

"Then I'm afraid you'd better sit down." He moved his long legs out of the way so she could sit comfortably on the other cushion.

Suddenly she began to cry. Daphne heard the loud sniffles and looked over at the pair of them, but Draco shook his head. That being the case, she finished directing the paper bats into a large box and then disappeared into her room.

"Was my godfather being a git?" he asked quietly.

"N-no.." she warbled.

"Then what's wrong?"

"I'd gotten it in Australia."

"Gotten what?"

"Professor Snape's get well gift."

"Is that what you were about earlier?"

"Yes…"

"Oh shit." The way he said it made her sit up and slow her tears. She wiped her face with the back of her sleeve.

"What, Malfoy?"

"I might have teased him about being a git to you earlier. And said some other things which I can't repeat or you'll hex me, but.. I swear I didn't mean anything by it."

Hermione, without thinking, grabbed his arm in a viselike grip.

"What did you do, Malfoy?"

"I might have hinted at something about you."

"You git, does he think I like him?"

"I don't know," he hissed, his arm beginning to hurt. "I don't think so. I was making fun of his lack of manners with witches. And maybe I said something about you, which irritated him, so I mentioned Maritinez and he got right pissed off. I swear I was just wanting to wind him up."

"Tell me. What. You. Said." She practically growled at him and he felt himself sweating.

"You're hurting my bloody arm," he whined.

She let go and crossed her arms. "I'm waiting."

He swallowed. She was right scary. What did he say earlier? He was having trouble remembering.

"I asked him.." he paused. "I asked if he'd you know. Noticed you. That you'd..er.. grown up."

Her eyes became narrow slits.

"What did he say?"

"He said he didn't leer at girls young enough to be his daughter."

"Too right."

"Look, I'm sorry. That was out of line."

"Again, too right."

"I hope that didn't , you know, put any funny ideas out there. But… before you decide to hate me forever…" He swallowed. "He says he doesn't despise you anymore. So there's that."

"I could have told you that, idiot. He's my bloody advisor for the year. We'd hardly be civilly discussing my future if he was still making me feel like thestral shite on the bottom of his shoe."

"He's.. he isn't?" Draco looked confused, but was certainly no longer afraid of her for the moment.

"Maybe you don't know him as well as you think." That smug look that she used to use on him all the time was back on her face. "He actually thanked me for the gift."

"And you're sure he didn't look at you.. you know?"

"Like what, Malfoy?" She then did something very uncharacteristic of her. She leaned toward and asked in a low voice, "Like he wanted to eat me for dinner?"

Draco leaned nervously away from her and blinked.

Hermione began to laugh. "If you could see the look on your face, Malfoy. I was only joking."

He wouldn't dare tell her why that had made him nervous. But he'd meant what he'd said earlier to his godfather about her. And her speaking to him like that gave him ideas that he shouldn't be having about Hermione Granger. Especially when she didn't think of him that way at all. He tried to play it off.

"I know you were, swot."

"How did that make me sound swotty?"

"Everything you do is swotty, Granger. You can't help it."

"Prat." She slapped his shoulder.

"It's always reassuring."

"What is?"

"When you hit me like that. I know you're not actually angry."

She scoffed and made to stand, but hands grabbed her by the waist and pulled her back down. She narrowly missed landing in his lap.

"What the fuck, Malfoy?" she snapped.

"I wasn't finished."

"Hurry up then. I want to go to bed."

"I like that you're a swot, Hermione Granger," he whispered in her ear, making her break out in goosebumps.

"You're an arse, Draco Malfoy," she huffed and marched to her room.

"The nerve of that… that… prat," she grumbled to herself. This potential weirdness now with Snape (Merlin, she hoped he didn't think she was interested in him like _that_ ) and damned Malfoy whispering in her ear that he likes that she's a swot which made her feel undeniably worked up in an entirely different way. Too many emotions for one evening. She was relieved that when she crept back out to use the girls bathroom that he was no longer there.

After Hermione stalked off, Draco made a stop by the bathroom and then to his room where he promptly climbed into bed. Her intentionally breathy, teasing voice was still echoing in his ears and he found himself simultaneously wishing she'd never do it again _and_ that she'd do it more often. His only regret of the evening was teasing Snape about her, though he was more or less sure he wasn't taken seriously. He hoped not because he didn't even want to think about Hermione speaking like that ever again unless it was just for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hope you enjoyed this bit of fun! I was glad to be able to include a few more Snape-y bits. Still a lot of angst to work through, but we haven't even made it to Christmas yet. The next chapter should arrive in 1-2 weeks!


	10. Getting Ideas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Students begin making plans for the holidays and Draco begins concocting his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I own nothing pertaining to Harry Potter and the wizarding world and earn nothing from writing this bit of fiction.
> 
> Thanks for reading!

**7 November 1998**

It had been more than a week since the Hallowe'en party and Hermione was grateful that it seemed that nothing had really changed. She'd had a meeting several days ago with Professor Snape and it was more of the same, though she noticed that the cauldron she'd given him had made it onto his desk. She was touched that he would even keep it, but also wise enough to say nothing about it. Their meeting had led to nothing of consequence as she had yet to make up her mind about a career path and her course load made her busy enough that she didn't have much time to do anything besides homework or an occasional evening in the Gryffindor Common Room to visit with her friends there. He gave her a mid-February deadline to make some sort of real decision and promptly turned her out of his office.

She had also made it through the third meeting of Dueling Club without embarrassing herself further. Professor Martinez was back and had decided that the more advanced students should spend some time with the younger ones to not only improve their own techniques, but also learn something of how to teach someone else.

Today, however, was a day in Hogsmeade and some of the girls had been discussing Christmas gifts for their parents and significant others. Hermione opted to pass part of her afternoon in Tomes and Scrolls, fingers drifting along the spines of various books that caught her fancy as she mumbled to herself. She was engrossed in perusing an illustrated copy of "Runes of Our Past" that featured several standing stones recently revealed to have been inscribed with curious runes when someone whispered in her ear, "Have you ever been to see the ones in Avebury?" She nearly jumped out of her skin, her shock turning to annoyance when she turned toward the voice.

"It's rude to read over someone's shoulder uninvited, Malfoy."

"I merely wondered how long it would take you to notice."

Hermione grimaced. "How long were you there?"

"At least five minutes."

What Draco didn't mention is that he had been noticing more about her than just the book she was reading: the way her curls were poking out of her scarf just so, the scent of warm vanilla that made him think of freshly baked biscuits in winter, the way she leaned over the book as if expecting to be literally drawn into it. He'd memorised it all.

"To answer your question, I haven't."

"Ah. Well, perhaps you should sometime."

She gave a disappointed shrug – was she expecting something else from him? – and put the book back on the shelf.

"I'm to meet Ginny for a Butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks."

The two of them stood there awkwardly. She didn't know if she should invite him and he wasn't certain he should invite himself along. He took the Slytherin way out.

"Right, I'm headed there as well. I told Blaise I'd be by."

"Yeah alright," she nodded and picked up her bag.

The two of them walked out of the shop and down the street together, neither one certain of what to say and so said nothing. When they arrived, he opened the door for her, but then headed straight to the bar to find his friend, not even giving her a second glance.

"You came in with Granger," remarked Blaise while the two of them settled into a table at the back corner.

"Pure chance," replied Draco. "Said she was coming to have a drink with the Girl Weasley." The two girls were, in fact, sitting near the front with a few other younger students that neither wizard recognised.

"Sure." Blaise was completely unconvinced, but it wasn't worth calling him on it just yet. "So are you going home for the Christmas hols?"

"I'm sure that Mother expects me to."

"But you'd rather not."

"Not really, but she can't go anywhere until June and she's been sending owls every week. She's not even allowed to go see Father and he won't be home until at least Spring. How's your mother?"

"She's in Luxembourg, mate. She offered to pay for a portkey for me, but I decided I'd give it a miss." His eyes drifted to Hermione's table. "What's Granger doing?"

"How should I know?" Draco snipped.

"Calm down, Drake. I knew you'd become friends, so I thought maybe you'd talked about it." Blaise held back a laugh at how prickly his friend got whenever he brought up a certain witch.

"Well, we haven't."

"I heard some talk." Blaise lowered his voice. "About her family."

Draco schooled the concern from his features as he nodded. "Yeah, Weaselette told me."

"We're all fucked over, aren't we?"

"Maybe Mother would let me stay at Hogwarts. You could come up to the castle, couldn't you?"

"I suppose I could owl McGonagall about it. Maybe she'd make some allowances."

"You could help me do a little research."

"On?"

"Family magic."

"You haven't enlisted the help of your favourite Gryffindor?"

"Shut it, Zabini."

"It was merely a suggestion. The girl thrives on research. And… you know… it could give her something to do over the hols."

"I'll think about it. I have to owl Mother first anyway. I'll let you know what she says, mate."

"The girls are leaving."

"And?"

"Go talk to her, Draco."

"No need, we have a study session tomorrow."

Blaise waggled his eyebrows and Draco responded with a glare.

"We. Study. That's all."

"Of course."

"Have you seen the witch study?"

"I never really paid attention to her. Not like you."

Draco kicked him beneath the table.

"Fuck's sake, Draco. You know I'm just taking the piss. I'm going to have to call off work tonight now."

Draco snorted. "Maybe Rosmerta can give you a little leg massage."

"I'd sooner ask to lick the dishes clean. She's lovely to look at, but it's best she doesn't catch me at it or she'll shove my wand up my arse and then her boyfriend will hex me for good measure."

"Boyfriend?"

"Oh, he works at Spintwitches."

"That big bloke?"

"Yeah." Blaise shuddered. "I dunno who's scarier though, him or her."

"Right, best you not ask for that massage then."

"Maybe Granger can come do it."

Draco kicked him again.

"Fuck, ok ok. I'll stop."

Draco rose from him stool. "I'll send you an owl."

"Alright, mate. If it doesn't work out, don't worry. Ok?"

"Yeah. I'll see what I can do."

Draco left just several minutes behind the girls and kept to the back of the group of students as they all headed back to the castle. He hadn't thought about Christmas just yet, but it was true that the holidays were fast approaching. He'd been afraid to even ask Hermione what she would do. He assumed she'd go to Potter's or maybe see the Weasleys. But maybe Blaise was onto something. There's no reason why the three of them couldn't do something different this year. But first he needed to work things out with his mother.

That evening after dinner he penned a decently long letter to Narcissa, letting her know that he'd seen Blaise that day and cautiously asking what she was planning for Christmas seeing as how she can't go anywhere and she wouldn't be hosting any large parties. His mind kept drifting back to the fact that Hermione wouldn't be spending the holidays with either of her parents and while she'd forgiven him for their awful past, he still felt somewhat responsible. He decided to mention a small something to the effect without telling exactly what happened to her parents. Maybe his mother would have some idea.

He hurried to get it sent before curfew. He wasn't sure why he was in such a rush over it as Christmas was still several weeks away, but for some reason he felt pressed to make plans as soon as possible. Did he want to invite Hermione to spend the holiday at Hogwarts doing research and otherwise loafing about the castle? What about Blaise? It was rather uncomfortable the way his friend kept needling him about her, but there was a ring of truth to it which he didn't bother outright denying.

* * *

Severus Snape was grateful that he hadn't been needed to chaperone the most recent visit to Hogsmeade. It had been a long week and Minerva had been badgering him about one too many things, one of which was her favourite pupil, Miss Granger. But now that he'd met with her again, he could submit yet another slip of parchment that said the girl simply refused to make up her mind. He didn't see how that was supposed to be his fault.

He'd spent his Saturday collecting some ingredients from the Forbidden Forest. Alone. It gave him time to think as he traipsed through the undergrowth, satchel slung over his shoulder bandolier-style containing jars of various sizes . He carefully collected several plants for Pomona, sure to get the entire root system, and took clippings of certain toxic weeds for his own work. He harvested spider eggs which he promptly froze, gathered bits of neglected bird nests, caught tiny blue lizards which would do nicely for an upcoming class, all the while wading through his latest interview with the illustrious Miss Granger.

"I'm having such a difficult time deciding, Professor," she sighed. "Isn't there anything you'd recommend? Surely there's something that I hadn't considered as a career path?"

"Not likely. Miss Granger, you're well aware that you'll be fine in whatever it is you put your mind to, as I've already told you before. We're meeting today because the Headmistress is most eager that you come to a decision."

"I– No, I really have no idea."

"Then I shall have to impose a deadline, Miss Granger. We can't have you derailing your future over bout of indecisiveness. You have until mid-February. Have I made myself clear?"

"Of course, sir. I'm terribly sorry. I'll do better for next time."

As he rethought her behaviour, it was true that he'd never seen her so unsure of herself. Had something else happened in that past year to account for it? Apparently she'd spent months getting up the courage to present him a get well gift and when she'd noticed that it was on his desk she said nothing about it. He was sure she'd make some little remark and was somewhat relieved that she didn't. He chalked it all up to the fact that now that the war was over, she was well and truly left to live her own life. What she ultimately did with it was none of his concern. Except, of course, Minerva McGonagall most certainly did not agree. Bloody Gryffindors.

* * *

**8 November 1998**

"So how is Blaise?" Hermione inquired, trying to find something to talk about besides Arithmancy and Charms. She and Draco had been cooped up at one of the library tables for over an hour already and the end of her homework was still not in sight.

"Yeah, he's fine. Said his mum is Luxembourg now."

"So it's true then. He's more or less on his own."

"Mmm, it's why he took the job with Rosmerta."

"Talk about anything interesting?"

"Only that Rosmerta is dating that bloke from Spintwiches."

"Good for her!"

"And we were trying to figure out what to do over Christmas hols."

"Ah." She bent closer to her parchment as she squeezed back the tears that threatened to spill at that one word.

"Blaise'll be on his own, too. And I dunno what Mother is going to get up to as she can't leave the manor and Father won't be released until Spring, but I owled her last night." He paused as he worked through a calculation in his head. "I've thought about asking if I could stay here and see if Blaise could join me."

"Oh but your poor mum!"

He thought it was rather endearing of her to be concerned. He quite frankly still couldn't understand the depths of her forgiveness.

"I dunno what she'll say, but… have you made any plans just yet?"

"No… Ginny has already invited me to see her family, but I don't fancy the idea of spending the entire time at their house. I suppose I ought to talk with McGonagall about maybe coming back early. I could hardly impose on Harry. He's going to want to spend time with Ginny and…" Her nose wrinkled up. It was rather cute.

It was at that moment that Draco had a idea. A terrible idea, perhaps, but… he hadn't been teasing her about Avebury the day before. Not really. It wasn't far from the Manor, but would she possibly be interested in spending part of her holiday in Wiltshire? The very idea of asking her frightened the daylights out of him. It would solve the issue of his mother and Blaise, almost too neatly. He pulled out a piece of parchment and began scrawling yet another hasty note to his mother. He wished he hadn't written last night without thinking things through.

Hermione looked over at what he was doing.

"Taking a break already?"

"I just need to get this sent off. I'll be back and we can go over our answered for these equations?"

"Yeah, ok. I'll take a walk around the library to stretch."

When he returned twenty minutes later, he was concerned when he found their things still on the table where they'd been working, but no Hermione. That was when he overheard heated whispers from the other side of the bookcase.

"I dunno, Gin. I'll come by for a day or two, but…"

"Mum'll be crushed."

"I'm sorry. I know it's hard, but… it's Christmas and I'd hoped…"

"You hoped that you'd be with your parents," her friend finished softly.

"Yeah…"

"Did you ask Flitwick?"

"I did, but… he's afraid I might have to just let them go."

"Too bad that Lockhart turned out to be a prick. He was good at memory charms."

Hermione snorted.

"Doubt he knew how to undo them, though."

"True."

"Look, I'll think about it. That's really kind of you and Harry's offered, too, but… I'll have to let you know."

Draco hurriedly moved away from the books and sat down again at the table, acting as though he'd been at work and heard nothing.

Hermione rounded the corner moments later, eyes red and puffy.

"What's the matter, one too many dusty books today?"

Hermione gave him a feeble smile.

"Something like that."

He let it slide, knowing that it wasn't the moment to pry. He'd overheard everything anyway.

"So what did you get for question 12?"

* * *

**14 November 1998**

It was another day for Quidditch and Hufflepuff and Slytherin were both chomping at the bit for another win. The weather was fair for November: cool, clear, and only a slight wind. Draco had pulled on something suitable in his former house colours and was on his way to the stadium.

His thoughts drifted back to the day before when he'd received an owl from his mum which he'd tucked away into his robes to read later. It was only when he was back in his room that he finally unsealed the letter to read it:

_Dearest Son,_

_It does my heart good to hear that your studies are going well. I'd heard rumours of your association with Miss Granger, but I refused to believe anything until I heard about it from you. I'd advise you to tread carefully as the papers are waiting for you to do something "dark" and as it is Miss Granger is commented on constantly whether there is anything to actually tell or not. All it would take is for someone to misconstrue something and you could say goodbye to your future._

_I am doing well in spite of being confined to the Manor. I've never been so thankful for the gardens and the many rooms. I've taken to redecorating the entire place room by room so that the next time we entertain our guests will be unable to find a single reminder of the things that have taken place here. It's done wonders for my own morale and I hope that you will find it much more welcoming. In case you're wondering, my schemes did not include your own room._

_Your aunt Andromeda has been rather magnanimous in spite of our poor treatment of her over these years and has recently taken to coming here once a week to keep me company. She's also been good enough to go see your father last week (how she could still be so kind is beyond my reckoning). She reports that he's not as bad as last time as conditions have vastly improved and he only has until April before he will get to come home. You ought to consider writing him a letter, you know._

_I would be glad to welcome Mr. Zabini for Christmas. With regards to Miss Granger, use your best judgement. I should not take offence if she decides that she would rather not be anywhere near our home. Please do let me know how many of you I should be expecting so that the rooms will be ready._

_your loving Mother_

His heart was in his throat as he read and reread the missive that evening and once more just before breakfast. There was no mention of censure or otherwise harsh words regarding Hermione. _He was allowed to invite her._ He knew that his mother had a good point, however, and he'd need to be prepared to accept the fact that perhaps she'd rather be anywhere else on the planet than the Manor.

He cursed his cowardice for not asking Hermione that morning if she'd be at the match and, if so, which side she'd be sitting with.

As his luck would have it, when he took his seat in the stands, he spotted Hermione firmly ensconced in a throng of Gryffindors who were shouting encouraging words at the Hufflepuff players warming up for the match. He was slightly cheered by the fact that she looked like she'd rather be studying. The match began soon after and Draco found himself swept along by the strong playing by both teams, culminating in an abrupt win about an hour and a half into the game when the Slytherin seeker, a third year by the name of Basel, caught the snitch just before he nearly crashed into a goalpost. The Slytherin side erupted in cheers and Draco cast a glance over to see that Hermione was no longer there.

* * *

Hermione wasn't sure what did it. Was it the roar of her fellow Gryffindors? Was it the chill in the air? Was it the familiarity of a quidditch match? Whatever the cause was, she found herself making excuses to her friends partway through the game and needing to take some air. Alone.

She'd never thought she'd become so emotionally crippled, but she also never imagined spending her adolescent years fighting a war, either. That afternoon she opted to wander the corridors rather than the grounds, melancholy leading her to a place she hadn't yet dared to approach that year: the seventh floor corridor. The tapestry of Barnabas the barmy was still there, though one of the corners appeared to have been singed. She cringed at the memory: heat, screams, and desperation. More flashbacks were not what she needed. She needed a calming place. And then, a door appeared.

She gingerly touched the knob, half expecting it to burn her. It was cool. She twisted it and pushed the door. Somehow the magic of the castle had done it again: the room was a wide, airy space, lit by warm sunlight. In the center was a sunken area lined with low couches and she could hear the sound of running water. She entered and closed the door behind her. The room was warm and she removed her cloak and scarf, hanging it on a peg just inside, as if the room had anticipated that, too. As she walked toward the couches, she saw that just beyond was a fountain that was at least the size of her bureau, the stacked stones worn smooth from the running water. She slipped off her shoes and socks and stepped down, eager to lie down on the couch and listen to the gentle sound from the fountain. The tile was warm on her bare feet. With a great sigh, she laid back and her eye was caught by the curious ceiling. Enchanted ceilings and windows were nothing new at Hogwarts, but she'd yet to see a fresco that seemed completely alive. The painted clouds drifted lazily while birds flew overhead and she could almost hear the occasional flapping of wings.

"Thank you," she whispered to no one in particular. Perhaps she felt as though she could address the Room itself. Or maybe the castle was listening. Regardless, she lay there silently until she fell asleep, at last in a safe space, free from the past.

She arrived late to dinner, nearly missing it altogether. Draco was still there, as were Mandy and Terry.

"You missed the end of the match," Draco commented as she sat down across from him. He'd noticed her absence? She flushed slightly at the idea.

"I needed to talk a walk."

"Sure," he said kindly.

"And then I fell asleep," she hurriedly added. "I mean, I took a nap."

He gave her a curious look, but didn't press.

"So what happened? Who won?"

"Slytherin, of course," Draco smirked. "Their new seeker is good. Nearly smashed into a goal post catching the Snitch, but it was really well done."

"I'm sure you're pleased."

"It was nice to see a good match. For a while there, I was nervous that Hufflepuff was going to win."

"Well, that wouldn't do, would it?" she chuckled.

"Of course not!" He paused and watched as Mandy and Terry left the table. He leaned forward. "You ok, Granger?"

"Yeah, fine," she said quietly before tucking into her roast chicken and potatoes.

"Hey, so…" He swallowed nervously. "I live close to the Avebury henge, you know. I don't know if you made any plans for the holidays, but, uh, Blaise will be with me and we wondered if you want to come by for a few days and… we could go to Avebury?"

Hermione froze.

"It's alright if you don't. I can understand. By my mother said…"

"You talked to your mother about this?" she asked quietly, slowly resuming her meal.

"Yeah. I hope that's not too weird."

"Is there anything _not_ weird about this?"

He gave an awkward laugh. Just then Professor Snape was walking past them as he was exiting the room. He paused and fixed his dark stare on Draco.

"A word, Mr. Malfoy?"

Draco looked from to Hermione.

"It will only be a moment," Snape drawled.

"Of course, sir." He rose and followed the grim man through the heavy doors.

"What is it, Professor?"

"Your mother wrote me. Am I to understand that you're inviting Miss Granger to stay over the holiday?"

"I was… in the process of it."

His eyebrow quirked in understanding. "Let me give you some advice then. You need to tell your father about it. And don't do anything that might cause Miss Granger to be incapable of finishing her studies."

"Why would I do that?"

"Don't be thick, Draco," he hissed, lowing his voice to a whisper. "She's obviously not doing well. Don't push her too far."

His mother's own words came back to him. _'With regards to Miss Granger, use your own best judgment.'_ So should he now un-invite her? That seemed even worse.

"Right, I'll, er, I'll be careful." He shifted awkwardly.

His godfather gave him a small nod. "Good. You may return to your dinner."

When Draco slid back into his place, Hermione was still picking at her plate.

"Alright?"

"Yeah, Snape was getting on me since I haven't written my father," he half-lied.

"Ah."

"Anyway, my mother said she's been redoing the house, so that it… well, it's not the same as before. She just would like to know how many guest rooms to have ready. I don't need to let her know just yet, though."

"You said Blaise is coming?"

"Yeah, he didn't fancy traveling too far."

"I'll think about it. I'm supposed to go to Ginny's, but I don't think I could stay there too long."

"It was only an idea. I won't be offended if you say no." He sounded a bit disappointed.

Hermione's mouth curled into a small smile. "Liar."

"Ok, I will be slightly hurt."

"Better."

"Does that mean you're going to come?" He tried to keep the hopefulness out of his voice.

"I'll consider it."

"For Avebury, of course," he teased.

"Right, purely academic research."

"Will Blaise mind terribly?"

"If he does, we'll send him off with Theo. Merlin knows where _he'll_ be spending the holiday."

Realisation dawned on Hermione as she remembered that Theo's father had also been sent to Azkaban.

"I'll bet you 5 sugar quills that he goes to the Greengrass's."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "You're on."

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thanks for your patience! Work has gotten busier (recently had an all day meeting 3 hours away, more long meetings to come) and I may have also squeezed in the time to work on some other stories, including a Snamione for SSHG Spooktober Fest 2020 here on AO3 - it's called "Routine" if you want to give it a read. Just a warning though, it has a firm E rating for a reason. As always, check the tags if you want to be sure if it's for you.
> 
> Next chapter of Bes(w)otted will be posted Oct 17


	11. Gifts of Various Sorts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dueling Club and Christmas shopping

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I own nothing pertaining to Harry Potter and the wizarding world and earn nothing from writing this bit of fiction.
> 
> Thank you, dear readers, for your patience! Life has been pretty weird, things were going full tilt again (including for work), but now things have suddenly tightened up once more and I have no idea what that will mean for my schedule. Needless to say, I'll keep going on this as I can. Thank you once again for the comments and kudos for this story. It warms my heart!

**4 December 1998**

Severus Snape had had it up to *here* with Holly Martinez. She was loud, she was opinionated and, worst of all, impossible to intimidate. As Defence Professor, she saw it as her right to dictate the activities of Dueling Club, never once asking him for input. And any time Dueling Club was brought into the conversation by the other professors, she continually critiqued his handling of the week she was away. He was determined that this evening's Dueling Club would be the night that he would show _her_ up. He made sure to be the first to arrive and set the room up much like an arena, a magical circle in the middle of the room that only the duelers could cross into and no spells could leave. He'd been practicing the technique after some third years nearly hexed their neighbors several weeks before and was pleased to finally be able to put it to use. It was the fifth and final meeting before the Christmas holidays and he had in mind a little competition.

Professor Holly Martinez arrived a good fifteen minutes later dressed in her usual Ilvermorny dueling robes. Her face quickly turned from a careful neutral position to that of a scowl.

"What is this nonsense?" she snapped, marching straight up to Professor Snape and doing her best to look him in the eye, though she was a good foot shorter than he. If she had known him better, she'd have known it was a foolish thing to do, but quite frankly she had never bothered to form any sort of firm opinion of the wizard, aside from in the instances where she was irritated by his behaviour, which to her seemed unseemly in a professor. She'd heard the rumours, that he was a spy, that he had saved many lives…. but to her he was simply a wizard to, at best, tolerate. When she could manage.

Severus was tempted just then to see how good, if at all, she was with Occlumency, but was distracted when a few students came into the room. He smirked at the interruption, knowing she would now look foolish if she tried to criticise his plans for the evening and would earn herself another meeting with McGonagall. A few weeks ago, after another blowup between them in a corridor, the Headmistress had lectured them both, at the same time, about putting up a united front before the students. It was a humiliating moment that neither had spoken of since.

"We're going to do peer evaluations tonight, Professor Martinez," he replied in a forced, honeyed tone. "I'm sure you'll agree that they'll respond well and will have a better sense of their newfound capabilities."

Her mouth twitched and he was sure that she was itching to say something particularly rude, but held her tongue. His own lips curled into a knowing smirk which caused her to narrow her eyes. She stalked away and welcomed the students as they trickled through the open door.

Severus nodded politely at the students who greeted him, but stayed just in front of the glowing circle on the floor. When the final student entered and the door was shut, he cleared his throat and spoke.

"Tonight is our final meeting before the holidays. As this is not a class, there will be no exams or homework given. Instead we will give you all a chance to show what you've learned and likewise receive feedback from your peers. Professor Martinez and I will monitor the duels tonight for safety only. You will be asked to duel someone from your year, seventh and eighth years will be put together. Questions?"

His dark eyes swept over the group. There was a faint whispering, but no hands in the air, not even from Miss Granger.

"Professor Martinez, if you will be so kind as to call up our first pair?"

She recovered quickly from her surprise at being asked to do something and called up two third years that she knew were comfortable in dueling one another. The evening went by smoothly, students calling out helpful advice during the duels and offering pointers afterward. Severus hid a self-satisfied smile. There were only a few students left when Hermione was called up with Luna. The room was quieter as each girl did her best to outmanoeuvre the other. It only ended when Hermione's concentration was broken by Severus suddenly shouting at a few boys who decided to hex Draco while everyone else was busy watching the duel. She looked away for a split second to see who it was and that was when Luna hit her with a full body bind. Severus glanced back just in time to see a stiff Hermione fall over, caught only moments before she crashed to the stone floor by a quick Arresto Momentum cast by her opponent.

"Quick thinking, Miss Lovegood," he noted aloud.

Luna gave him an odd smile and released Hermione from the binding spell.

Professor Martinez called up a pair of fifth years before walking over to where Severus was snarling at a three younger students.

"What seems to be the matter, Professor?" Her eyes were narrowed with suspicion.

"One or more of these dunderheads just hit Mr. Malfoy with stinging hexes while he was watching the duel. You will all hand in your wands to Professor Martinez while she sees who cast the hex. I will leave her to decide your punishment." He glanced over at Draco, who was doubled over on the floor.

"Granger!" he called. The witch scurried over to them, looking around the small crowd gathered. "Take Mr. Malfoy to the hospital wing."

"Yes, sir," she nodded and helped the blond to his feet. They slowly made their way from the door, Draco leaning on Hermione as he hobbled across the stone floor.

When Snape turned around, Holly Martinez was still busy checking wands from five different students. He glared at the lot of them and they cringed slightly. _Good_ , he thought. _They had better be afraid._

"Russell, Knox, and Langdon," the American professor snapped. Three heads snapped to attention. "You will be serving detention with Mr. Filch every weekend until Christmas and there will be no last visit to Hogsmeade before the holidays. You are also henceforth barred from Dueling Club until I decide otherwise. Are we clear?"

Once they and the other students had been dismissed, Severus decided to indulge himself ever so slightly.

"So you do believe in disciplining students after all." He smirked as he addressed Martinez.

'I most certainly do," she huffed. "And I don't need to belittle them to do it."

Something flashed in Snape's eyes and apparently she noticed.

"Thought you were clever tonight, didn't you? It's a nice piece of spellwork, of course, but you could have at least mentioned it beforehand."

"I was not aware that we were actually working together."

She huffed in irritation.

"Do you constantly feel the need to be a pain in the ass?"

"Do you constantly feel the need to treat me like thestral shite stuck to your overpriced boots?"

"You are by far the worst wizard I've ever had to work with!"

"You are the most disrespectful witch I have ever worked with. And that includes Alecto Carrow."

"I don't need to be in your fucking fan club to do my job, Snape."

"Then you'd best stay out. of. my. way."

Just then a familiar curly head poked in the door. "Excuse me, prof–" She stopped and squeaked at the sight of her two professors glaring at one another.

Their heads snapped to look at her.

"What, Miss Granger?" Snape spat.

"I just wanted to let you know, er, Madam Pomfrey said Malfoy will be fine for tomorrow and to let you know that she's running low on swelling paste."

Snape rolled his eyes. "Alright."

"I'm sorry," the girl sighed.

The Defence professor took a deep breath and turned completely toward Hermione.

"Thank you for letting us know, dear."

Hermione nodded slowly and left them.

"You could have been at least a bit more polite to her," she admonished Snape when the door closed once more.

"If I were too polite, she would suspect Polyjuice, Martinez. You'll find that Miss Granger is not too easily rattled."

"I don't know how she's coping with you as her advisor for the year."

"Perhaps you should ask her yourself if you're that concerned. Minerva insisted on it, though why I cannot imagine. I tried to convince her otherwise.

Martinez hummed to herself as she considered it. She then did something entirely uncharacteristic of her: she held out her hand.

"Truce?"

"Excuse me?" Snape looked at her with eyebrow raised.

"I don't exactly like you and you don't like me, but it seems we need to learn to work together." She tilted her hand slightly, still waiting for him to shake it. "Prove me wrong, Snape."

His lip curled as he considered the import of her words. He was tired of proving himself. But he knew he also could do with a drama-free existence and if this could give it to him, he'd be a fool not to take it. At least this time he wasn't condemning himself to lifetime of servitude.

He at last extended his own hand to hers and shook. Something like a tiny burst of magic was felt as they sealed their pact. She gave him an odd look, but also a small smile.

"We'll plan the next one after Christmas vacation. Together."

"Fine," he replied evenly, removing himself from her grasp. He wasn't altogether convinced that they were capable of doing such a thing, but it was either try or resign himself to several more months of her being a veritable thorn in his side.

* * *

After Hermione reported back to her professors, she found herself retaking the path back to the infirmary. Draco was still curled up on his cot, though his face seemed more relaxed.

"I didn't tell you, those three got detention with Filch every weekend until the holidays and no Hogsmeade."

"Nice of my godfather to finally do something."

"Oh, it was Martinez."

"Really now…" he replied with interest.

Hermione lowered her voice to a whisper. "She and Snape were at each others' throats when I went back down."

"Snape hates her, you know."

"But why would he?"

"She hates him. For a smart girl, you can be dull."

She rapped him lightly on the shoulder.

"Ow, be nice to me or I'll call Pomfrey."

"Hush you, I know you're full of shite anyway."

"You're right, that woman is a nightmare."

Hermione made a face.

"So…" she began tentatively, "about Christmas."

"Yeah?"

"I wrote the Weasleys. I'm going to stay until after Boxing Day. Well, I think I'll be at Harry's until Christmas, but that's not important. So I thought that, well, I could come to yours on the 27th?"

"For how many days?" He felt his heart clench, waiting for her to say just for a day or two.

Instead she turned pink. "Well… I… could I stay until term restarts?"

Draco visibly relaxed and her own heart leaped with joy.

"Of course," he said quickly, as if afraid she might change her mind if he took too long. "I'll owl Mother and let her know."

"You're sure it's alright?"

"More than alright. She's the one who offered to have a room ready."

"That's very kind of her."

"I have a small favour to ask, Granger."

"Of course!"

"I had hoped to do a little research this semester, but I haven't had the time. But…"

"You want my help?" Her enthusiasm threatened to bubble over.

"Yeah, though it's about family magic."

Her eyes widened slightly.

"Of course you have family magic. You're a pureblood, sacred 28. Goodness, I just… I'm just surprised you'd talk to me about it."

"Because I associate with you now, you've forgotten that I'm one of _them_?"

"Well… that's not it exactly."

"What is it, Granger?"

"Isn't family magic usually a secret?"

"In this case, so much so that no one understands what my grandfather was going on about in his journals. He caught Dragon Pox and suddenly died before he could tell us about it. And then there were the wars and Father had other things to worry about."

"Right," she replied softly. "And you're sure that you want my help?"

"If we can't figure it out together, I'm not sure anyone will."

He said it with such conviction that she found herself beaming from that moment until she was back in bed trying to fall asleep. He thought she was smart. He wanted her help. He wanted to figure it out _together_.

* * *

**19 December 1998**

Hermione had been studying feverishly and writing essays until her fingers threatened to cramp. Draco had been by her side, doing much the same. It was with relief that Draco stretched one morning and remembered not only that it was Saturday, it was also a day in Hogsmeade. He'd promised to meet Blaise for a late lunch, which left the morning for doing any Christmas shopping he'd planned. His stomach fluttered anxiously. Granger would be coming to his house just after Christmas. He should get her a gift then, right? It would be the polite thing to do. And knowing her, she probably would have one for him. Finding her a birthday gift was nerve-racking enough, but as he reflected, he remembered that she'd been rather pleased with it. Changing out of his pajamas and pulling on warm clothing, Draco headed to breakfast and was pleased to find a place near Hermione.

"What do you think your mum would like for Christmas, Malfoy?"

The question caught him by surprise, but he poured himself a tea and replied, "She rather fancies the Christmas taffy assortment from Honeydukes."

"Thanks. I'd hate to show up empty-handed."

He grinned. He'd been so right about her. He just hadn't thought about her also shopping for his mother.

By the time he met Blaise that afternoon for lunch, he had only two small bags in his possession: a beautifully engraved brooch he'd found for his mother and another book for Hermione, this time the one on runes that she had been looking at the last time they were in Hogsmeade. Quite frankly, he was at a loss.

"Hey, mate," he greeted his long time friend.

"Drake, what's wrong? You look like you've just been assigned feeding blast-ended skrewts over the holiday."

"Shut it, Zabini."

"Go order your lunch at the counter and then you can tell me the whole sad story," he smirked.

As they two young wizards ate, Draco slowly admitted feeling woefully inept in finding a gift for Hermione and that he'd settled on something safe: knowledge. The two of them talked over what they supposed a girl like Hermione might possibly like, but Blaise was no better at coming up with something useful than Draco. By the time Draco parted, he felt even sillier. What kind of message would it send if he only ever gave her books? He was mulling this over as he walked back through Hogsmeade one last time when something caught his eye: in the window of an antiques shop he saw a tiny wooden box with a crank. He decided to push the shop door open which jingled, announcing his presence. Only seconds later, a short, graying wizard appeared before him.

"How may I help you?" the man inquired, his voice sounding as dusty as his shop.

"The small box in the window, can you tell me about it?"

"Ah, the music box? Let me fetch it and I'll tell you its story."

Draco checked the time while the man's back was turned. He had a good two hours left before he was due to head back to the castle. The shop owner returned only moments later, the small wooden box perched on the palm of his hand. He carefully turned the crank with his other hand and a soothing melody filled the room.

"Apparently this was made for an Irish witch who had lost her brother in a terrible accident at sea. Beside herself with grief, she neither ate nor slept for months, aside from when a friend managed to force her to eat a bit of broth or slip her a bit of sleeping potion. One day a wizard came to town and fell hopelessly in love with the witch and vowed that he would do anything to cure her sorrow. This wizard was a gifted musician and began making weekly visits to her house where her family was grateful to anyone who would be willing to help her stop from wasting away. He would bring with him a glass flute, endeavoring to find the tune that would find its way to her heart. After a year, she was still nearly catatonic, but he didn't give up. At last, he wrote this song and as he played it for her the first time, he saw that she slowly glanced in his direction, something she'd never done before. He continued playing it and the story goes that after a week of him coming to play that song every day for an hour, she slowly regained her health. Sadly he passed away from illness only months after, but not before the song was made into a music box, so that she could listen to it whenever she began to feel sad again."

"May I look at the box?"

"Certainly." The man carefully handed it to Draco.

As he looked it over, Draco noted its simple design, a small sunflower etched into the wood on the top with "to M.H." etched into the underside.

"I'll buy it," he said with a nod. It was make a lovely gift, all the better with the story that went along with it. Whether that story was true or not was irrelevant; the music itself was beautiful.

With a quick exchange of several galleons (she need never know how many), Draco left the shop, the small box wrapped carefully in paper tucked into the bag from the book shop.

* * *

Hermione's day in Hogsmeade was nothing like she had planned. Several of the girls had wanted to go shopping together and at first she refused, hoping to take refuge in Tomes and Scrolls, the local book shop, but she eventually allowed herself to be convinced to join the others, even when it involved a bit of whirlwind shopping in Gladrags. The other girls, Ginny included, were shopping for dresses for both Christmas and New Year's, as well as doing a little shopping for family members.

"Mione," Ginny suddenly called out, "take a look at this one." She was holding up a red, sparkling dress that flared out at the hips. "This would be perfect with one of those little silver belts."

"Yeah, you should buy it," Hermione said encouragingly.

"Not for me, silly, you!"

"Why would I need a dress, Gin? It's not like we have a fancy party with your family."

"Because you're not just spending the holiday at the Burrow, are you?"

Hermione's cheeks grew slightly pink.

"No, but-"

"You need to dress up a bit for him," her friend teased.

"Oh, come off it. I'm going there to do research and visit a henge, not have cocktails and caviar."

"Are you sure about that?"

"That would be a bit much for such a small group, don't you think?"

"Hermione, this _is_ Narcissa Malfoy we're talking about."

Mandy Brocklehurst approached, overhearing the end of the conversation. "You're spending the holiday with Malfoy?" Her eyebrows were raised, though the smile tugging at her lips showed that she was hardly surprised. "In that case, get the dress. And a few more, depending on how long you're staying."

"Oh but-" Hermione began, looking a bit flustered.

"Trust me, you'll thank us later," Mandy nodded sagely. Ginny grinned and gave Hermione a wink.

Their curly-headed classmate turned on her heel with a huff and went to examine some flannel pajamas. That would be a safe thing to consider and hardly so… pretentious, she thought to herself. But as she looked through the racks and finally selected a navy flannel set as her old ones were getting thin, she considered what the other girls had said. Perhaps it would be wise to have a few options on hand over the holiday since she had no idea what she would be doing at Malfoy's.

After a bit of hemming and hawing, she did decide on the red dress and a black one as well, the silver belt working perfectly with them both. She also picked up a few gifts for some of the Weasleys and Harry before the group moved on to the new shop.

By the time the afternoon drew to a close, Hermione felt ridiculous carrying so many shopping bags. She felt like a spendthrift, burning through her sickles (and quite a few galleons as well), but couldn't resist when she finally would find that perfect gift for someone. She'd even picked up a small something for Draco and even Blaise, not wanting to leave the other wizard out. She only hoped that they would like what she chose. Just before it was time to walk back to the castle, she made one final stop at Honeydukes, buying some confectionary gifts, including a few sugar quills for herself.

When she got back to her room and sat down all the bags, she collapsed onto her bed, her feet tired from a day of shopping and dreading the walk back down to the Great Hall for dinner. She was thankful that most of the shops offered giftwrap services as she began sorting the gifts, putting gifts for the Weasleys and Harry in a cloth zip bag that she had magically enlarged and made more sturdy, a smaller one for her trip to Malfoy Manor and an even smaller one that she sat on her desk with a grimace. It was a bit of sweets for Professor Snape, though she had no idea if he even liked that sort of thing. She decided the best course of action would be to see if he was in his rooms before dinner and if not, she could pass it to him in the Hall on their way out.

It was soon nearly time for the final dinner before the holiday and Hermione tucked the small bag into a hidden pocket of her robes. She crept quietly out her door and through the common room, not wanting to explain to anyone where she was going or why. Looking around carefully, she slipped out the door and down the hall where the dour professor's rooms were. She swallowed nervously and knocked. She waited for a few minutes and was turning to leave when the door opened quietly.

"What is it now, Granger?" came the tired voice.

She swiveled her head to the doorway and shoved a hand into her pocket.

"Good evening, Professor Snape," she chirped, attempting to sound pleasant.

His nostrils flared, but his face reflected only resignation.

"Happy Christmas," she announced, thrusting forward the small bag. "I'll be gone for the holidays, but wanted to thank you for… well, for your help this year."

He stared at her blankly, but gently plucked the bag from her fingers and looked inside. His mouth twitched for only a second. If she hadn't been watching him so intently, she would have missed it.

"Thank you, Granger. That was highly unnecessary."

"It's nothing, Professor. I'll, er, see you at dinner." And with that she scurried away.

* * *

Severus Snape closed his door and deposited the bag on a small table, rifling through its contents once more. Granger had given him Peppermint Imps, a bar of chocolate, and small bag of candies that apparently turned one's tongue various colours. It was a rather silly gift for someone as boring as himself, but he had to admit (deep, deep down) that it was a kind gesture. As he further reflected, he noted that made twice that year that she had presented him with a gift. Severus was not used to gifts, especially ones from students that weren't some form of prank. With an odd emotion threatening to colour his usual bleak take on holidays, he swept out of his room and headed for the Great Hall, hoping to find some student breaking the rules along the way. To his chagrin, there was only a first year who'd managed to get himself stuck to a suit of armour thanks to Peeves. He un-stuck the student, lectured him on the importance of never letting Peeves get the upper hand, and continued on to the evening feast.

As he took his seat at the Head Table, he looked over the students thoughtfully. Gone was the awful tension of the past. House rivalry was still alive and well, but less vindictive. And the Eighth Years seem to have proven that McGonagall had been right about something: those who had been through some of the worst of the war were willing to put pettiness aside in this new era of peace. Eventually. He noted that some students still gave Malfoy a wide berth, but the young wizard scowled far less and smiled more now. It was suspicious at first, but the other students were growing steadily less wary. He wondered if Granger had anything to do with that. She was loyal and stubborn and woe to anyone who tried to harm people she had laid claim to. Was she that way with him as well? He'd heard rumours of the fact. The very thought of it gave him a headache, so it was best not to dwell. The rest of the staff was high on holiday cheer and he allowed them to now and again engage him in conversation, though his eyes never wandered too far from his godson and the curly-haired witch beside him. At one moment during the meal, she'd leaned over and whispered something in the young man's ear and was met with a friendly grin. He wondered if Lucius knew about this and what he would say. But it wasn't his story to tell, so he would say nothing until solicited. The meal slowly dragged to an end and even Martinez had attempted to smile his way as she wished them all a Happy Christmas in turn. Apparently she was going back to the States to see her family. The most he could manage in return was a faint, pained grimace. He, too, would be going home, but home was hardly anything to wax eloquently about.


	12. Silver Bells and Silver Spoons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first Christmas after the war isn't at all the same as it was before, but it hasn't entirely dampened Draco's spirits. A certain witch coming to stay might have something to do with it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I own nothing pertaining to Harry Potter and the wizarding world and earn nothing from writing this bit of fiction.
> 
> Thanks for reading!

**December 27, 1998**

Hermione's time at Harry's and with the Weasley's was a bit more sober than usual, a sense of loss hanging over the group. They were slightly cheered by an appearance by Andromeda with Teddy, but that, too, was tinged with sadness. Even so, the sense of togetherness that always permeated the crowded home (even rebuilt) was still present; hugs and mild festive cheer were still welcome and Molly had gifted everyone a nice jumper and matching socks. Bill and Fleur surprised everyone with the announcement that they were expecting, which meant that the entire family erupted in tearful hugs and a sense of joy slowly warming their hearts in a way nothing else could. It also meant that Hermione could leave without being smothered by concerned looks and well-intentioned advice.

She'd packed her trunk the night before so after some heartfelt goodbyes around mid-morning, she stepped into the floo and called out the words she thought she'd never hear herself say: "Malfoy Manor".

She arrived in the usual haze of green smoke and soot, carefully spelling herself clean as she stepped through the far larger, more ornate floo and onto tiled floor that she was sure cost more than the reconstruction of the entire Burrow. With a *pop* she was greeting by a cheerful elf who took command of her trunk and disappeared just as Draco Malfoy walked into the receiving room.

"Morning, Granger," he said stiffly, pondering whether to shake hands or just stare at the girl. This was quickly overshadowed as Blaise barreled in behind him and, shunting Draco to the side, greeted her effusively, kissing the back of her hand with great flourish. Draco glowered for a moment before he schooled his features back into place, but not before she noticed.

"Good morning, gentlemen," she cooed, a smirk crossing her face. A clicking of heels was heard in the hallway just before Narcissa herself crossed into the room. "Lady Malfoy," she called out, bowing her head politely. The woman quickly stepped in, grasping the unsuspecting Hermione by the elbows and kissing the air next to her cheek before stepping back once more to give the younger witch an appraising look.

"It's Narcissa, dear. I do hope these two young gentlemen have seen to your things?"

"Bibble got to her first," Draco sputtered.

"Of course she did," Narcissa returned with a knowing smile, certain she was going to enjoy watching her son navigate unknown proprietary waters. "Draco, show Miss Granger to her room and then we'll all take tea in the conservatory. Blaise, you may join me."

Blaise gave Hermione a wink and left with Narcissa while Draco offered his arm to Hermione.

He led her down hallway decorated with various wizarding paintings and sculptures and to a wide staircase where they climbed the shallow steps and then down another hall, stopping at the 4th door.

"This is the room Mother fixed up for you. We hope that it's to your taste," Draco announced blandly.

Hermione snorted and opened the door, curious to what Narcissa Malfoy would have dreamed up for her. To her great surprise, the room was charming rather than stuffy and there was even a shelf of books along one of the walls. She felt herself immediately drawn to it, eager to peruse the titles. As she walked toward them, Draco let out a laugh.

"Of course you would."

"Beg your pardon?"

"You went directly for the books. I knew you would."

She felt her cheeks grow warm. "I was curious, you know."

"And?"

"I'm surprised to see some Muggle titles mixed in here."

"Oh really?" He walked nearer to take a look himself. "Which ones?"

"These over here," she gestured, pointing to a few odd titles that he didn't recognise. "And over here, my goodness, these are rather new. I didn't even know she'd written a new novel. It's been ages since I've been able to go to the library," she mused.

"You're always in the library," Draco replied, somewhat confused.

"Not the school one. The one in my town. Where I live, er, lived."

He put a hand on her shoulder in an attempt to be of comfort. She gave him a half-smile and he inwardly congratulated himself that she hadn't immediately moved away. He cleared his throat. "Well, Mother is waiting with Blaise…"

"You're certain this isn't a bother?" she queried, rounding to face him. She watched as his grey eyes widened.

He cleared his throat. "Not at all. We're- she's glad to have you here."

Hermione paused to pull out a few wrapped parcels from her bag.

"Don't worry about that now, Granger. Mother said we'll do gifts tomorrow."

She blinked back. "But surely... you don't mean..." she babbled.

"Did you really think she'd invite you to Christmas dinner without having a gift?" He rolled his eyes, pretending that he himself hadn't agonised over what to give her. "We do have manners you know."

She smiled up at him, both surprised and doubly glad that she had brought gifts in that case. "Let's go have tea then and I can tell your mother about how great of a study partner you've been this term." With that she moved away, exiting the room without waiting for him.

He chuckled quietly and closed the door to her room and, taking a few large steps, easily joined her, slipping his arm beneath her own as he steered her back down the staircase.

Hermione felt extraordinarily welcomed by Narcissa and was touched by the lengths that the woman had gone through to make sure that she would be comfortable. Tea was very relaxed and Narcissa chatted with the three of them as if they were all her children, pushing more tea cakes on them, asking personal questions. Questions such as "Draco, have you been keeping up with your studies?" or "Blaise, are you being paid fairly?" and her favourite of the evening, "Hermione, Draco hasn't been holding you back, has he?" That brought a laugh from the younger witch as Draco's ears went crimson. Blaise smirked in his chair, pleased as punch.

After tea, Blaise and Draco took her on a tour of the house and grounds, which went on until Bibble the elf arrived to call them in for a rather late lunch, after which they began making plans for their visit to the henge. Hermione, of course, asked if he had any books about it and demanded to see them straight away.

For dinner that night, they were all instructed to wear something "nice", which Hermione took as an occasion to wear one of her new dresses. She found herself thankful that the girls had talked her into getting more than one. Draco fetched her just before it was time and, from the way he looked at her, she decided that the dress was perfect for the evening.

They met Blaise along the way and entered the dining room together, where Narcissa had the table already laid out

"Hermione, how lovely you look tonight. Please, do sit, here, next to me ad Blaise you go on the other side. Draco, if you'll sit just across from Blaise?"

Which left another chair, but for whom? They looked at one another in bewilderment. After all, who would come calling over the holidays?

"Since we're all here together tonight," Narcissa continued, "I thought we'd have a sort of Christmas dinner, though the day is already past. I've also invited –"

Just then the door to the dining room opened.

"Severus, how good of you to join us," Narcissa greeted with a smile.

Snape was wearing his usual black and looked as dour as ever, though one corner of his mouth was turned up just a bit. Hermione reasoned that it was the closest he could actually come to a smile. His gaze flicked to the others in turn.

"Draco, Mister Zabini," he drawled and then paused for a moment before adding, "Miss Granger."

"Good evening, Professor," they replied in chorus, Hermione's own voice a bit squeakier than usual.

He ignored it and sat down to join them at the open chair at Narcissa's left, placing him directly in front of Hermione. The girl gulped. She looked over at Draco who simply shrugged. Apparently he didn't know any more than she did that Snape would be joining them.

"And what did you do for Christmas this year, Severus?" the lady of the house enquired.

He snorted in response. "Nothing."

"Nothing at all?" Her own voice belied the fact that she didn't believe him.

"Nothing of import." 

"Well. As I was just saying to the children, I thought we could have a nice holiday dinner tonight since we're all here now."

He made a noise that could have been one of agreement.

"You know, Andromeda came by on Christmas. She brought Teddy with her, the darling boy. I feel so terribly for him." She paused and sighed. "I've decided to do all that I can so that the boy will want for nothing."

Hermione watched the exchange with interest, knowing full well her own feelings on the matter and having cried a great deal over it the day before. She held back her tears from falling by focusing on her plate before her.

"You got to see them as well, Hermione, didn't you? She told me she'd gone to the Weasley home already that morning."

The curly-haired witch sniffled. "Yes," she managed to squeeze out.

"I know Remus and Tonks were your friends. I'm terribly sorry. It's been rather difficult to do what I can to make amends when I can't even leave the house, but you must know that…" the blonde's voice was choked with emotion. "That I'm fully aware of some of the costs of that bloody war. I'm honoured that you would even stoop to come here and eat with me."

Hermione's eyes went wide. While this wasn't the dinner conversation she'd been expecting, she found that she was profoundly touched by the sincerity of the woman's words.

"Everyone pays a heavy price when there is a war," Snape suddenly added. "I for one am glad that it is finally over."

Narcissa's soft gaze drifted over to her friend. "I imagine that it is easier to teach this year?" she queried, partially changing the subject.

"I'm certainly not going to be winning any Most Popular Professor awards."

"I think you're doing a fine job at being in charge of our year, Professor," Hermione chirped.

"Arse-kisser," Draco coughed and Hermione rolled her eyes. Blaise snickered until Snape gave him a dark look that quelled him into silence.

"You see, Severus, not all is quite as glum as you make it," Narcissa prodded, a twinkle in her eye.

"Miss Granger has the tendency to see things in a skewed, overly positive light. Perhaps that's why she'd been studying with you, Draco?"

Draco flushed crimson at the man's needling.

"We happen to study very well together, thank you. My marks have never been better."

"Yes, it's nice to study with someone who actually does their work without complaining every ten minutes," Hermione defended.

"Well, we all knew that Potter and Weasley were riding on your coattails," Snape concluded.

Hermione started to say something back, but then thought better of it. He was, after all, partially right.

"So Severus, Draco tells me that you are Miss Granger's advisor for the year."

"An oversight by Minerva that she has continually refused to correct."

Hermione bristled visibly at the comment. Blaise watched, avidly taking it all in and hoping to leave with plenty of fodder to drive both Draco and Granger mad. With this new juicy bit about Snape, he smirked more visibly at the witch beside him.

"You would question the Headmistress's judgement?" she asked demurely as she cut up her potatoes.

"I believe you're initial remarks to her were _'There must have been a mistake_ '. Were they not?"

She flushed red and accidentally dropped her knife, making it clatter off the side of the plate.

Narcissa swooped in. "Well, I'm sure that's all in the past now, isn't it dear?"

"I rather thought that things were going fine," Hermione replied.

Severus snorted, but refused to add further commentary. He thought the girl was possibly deranged, but that was ultimately someone else's problem. In any case, she'd be out of his hair in just six short months and he'd never have to deal with her or her awkward gift giving ever again.

"So Blaise, you're going to continue on with Rosmerta?"

"Yes, she's offered to extend my stay for another 18 months."

"How lovely for you. Hermione, what would you like to do after N.E.W.T.S.?"

"Well, I had considered a job at the Ministry, but I'm really not too sure. I'm afraid I haven't discovered the thing that I'm best at."

"Your top marks in all of your classes hasn't given you any clues?" Draco finally chimed in.

"I don't know. Are yours helping you decide?" she jibed.

"Oh how wonderful, Draco," Narcissa broke in. "You told me that you were doing well, but I didn't know you had top marks."

"He's got Granger as a study partner, what else would you expect?" Blaise added with a wink.

Draco, ears burning, decided it was time to change the subject. "So, Godfather, did you tell Mother about Dueling Club?"

Snape's lip curled. "No, I did not."

"Oh yeah, he's running it with a new professor, Martinez. She's a right pain in the— ouch!"

Hermione had kicked Draco under the table just then. She was only glad she'd kicked the correct leg. On the way back, however, her foot bumped Snape's and she recoiled in shock, shrinking down in her chair. Two pairs of Slytherin eyes were fixed on her. "Sorry," she murmured.

Narcissa's keen eye had missed none of this. Eager for a bit of gossip, she turned to her old friend with a smile.

"Is she really that terrible, Severus?"

Snape grimaced. "Tolerable. She's attempted to apologise, but I'll believe it when I see it."

The younger three, who hadn't heard this bit of news, exchanged looks. It was sure to be discussed whenever they were alone. Draco, for one, had a gleam in his eye.

Snape then steered the conversation to Narcissa's rose gardens and other safer topics. It was after dinner when Snape was excusing himself from their company when he addressed his three younger dinner companions.

"Do try to keep out of trouble. Especially you, Miss Granger."

Hermione once again visibly winced.

"Don't worry, Godfather. We'll be sure she gets back to school in one piece."

"That's hardly what I was referring to," he drawled. "Miss Granger simply has a knack for finding trouble. I'm not sure it was always Potter's doing after all."

Hermione now looked as if she were able to say something regrettable, so Blaise carefully steered her toward the library, claiming he needed her help. She shot her professor a baleful glare, but allowed herself to be hurried away.

Draco, however, stayed to see the man out.

"There's no need to be so hard on her," he griped.

"It's for her own good. And moreover, she knows that I'm right."

"That's not what I meant. Did she…" he hesitated before continuing, "did she ever tell you about her parents?"

"I don't see how any of that is my concern."

"As her advisor, you should know that she's currently without parents. Why else would she be here during holiday?"

"I'm sure your little research project has a great deal to do with that. She would hardly turn down the chance to learn something new."

"How did you know about that?"

"Your mother, of course." Snape let that sink in for a moment. "Why do you say that she is currently parentless?"

"She modified their memories during the war. But now she doesn't know if it can be undone. They don't even know they have a daughter. She tried with the Ministry in Australia but it was all deadends."

"Australia?"

"Where she sent them."

"Of course she did," he sneered. "I'm assuming that she didn't go to Minerva over this."

"She hasn't been keen to tell anyone."

The older wizard exhaled a deep sigh. "I suppose this means you think I ought to do something about it?"

"You _could_ , you know."

"I'm not a memory charms expert, Draco. I'm a Potions Master."

"Your point being?"

"I'll think on it."

Draco knew that was as good as a yes, though he bit back his smile. It was best to play the game. But that didn't mean he couldn't be cheeky.

"Did Martinez give you a Christmas gift?"

Snape's nostrils flared. "Enough. I'll be back for New Year's Day. Be sure to tell your mother." He turned in a swirl of cape and hurried to the floo before Draco could wheedle anything else out of him.

Draco, for his part, strutted the whole way to the library.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I apologise for the shorter chapter, but I am dreadfully overdue (at least in my head) in giving you all another chapter. I hope that you found this one fun! We'll get a bit more of Snape's perspective in the next, promise.


	13. Giving and Receiving

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first Christmas after the war isn't at all the same as it was before, but it hasn't entirely dampened Draco's spirits. A certain witch coming to stay might have something to do with it, as well as finally getting around to finding out what his grandfather had hinted about. Or at least trying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I own nothing pertaining to Harry Potter and the wizarding world and earn nothing from writing this bit of fiction.
> 
> Thanks for reading!

**28 December 1998**

Severus Snape had floo-ed home the evening before in a snit. The cheek of that boy. But instead of smashing things to bits as he had in his youth, he'd pulled out his new bottle of Ogden's (Christmas staff gift) and poured himself a large glass, drinking before a crackling fire as he fought away maudlin thoughts. He fell asleep on the sofa, which he discovered in the morning by having a large crick in his neck and a sour taste in his mouth.

He groaned and restarted the fire, and sat there rubbing his neck while heat slowly returned to the room. His mind drifted to the awkward dinner conversation the day before. The Granger girl was not so terribly out of place, he mused, though it was certainly unlike any dinner he'd ever had at the Manor. He was thankful Narcissa had tried to keep a modicum of decorum in spite of the antics of the younger wizards. Lucius would have been appalled at his son's behaviour.

And then there was that revealing remark of what happened to Granger's parents. He was slightly put out that she'd confided in Draco over him, someone actually responsible for her, but mollified by the fact that she hadn't told the other staff members either. In truth, it was rather bold of Draco to ask for help when she hadn't. _Was_ there something he could do? He was familiar with branches of mind magic that Filius hadn't delved into – the result of having been a spy for two extremely powerful wizards – but he wasn't sure that would be enough. He would need to do some research.

His eyes flicked over to the table where he'd deposited his Christmas gifts, mostly opened and placed in a neat row. He had no tree to sit them under. There were a few rare potions ingredients from Sprout's greenhouses, some new quills and red ink, a scarf, a new pair of dragonhide gloves, and a blank journal. Next to it was indeed a gift from Martinez that he had left unopened out of equal parts stubbornness and mistrust. She might have called a truce, but he'd believe it when he saw it. With a sigh, he slowly drew himself to his feet and stepped over to the table.

The gift was small and wrapped in shiny green paper tied with a bit of twine which he removed to find a small box which contained something that made him instantly wonder how she had acquired it in the first place. It was a pin marking membership to the American Potioneers Guild. It was considered an honor to belong - not every potions worker was permitted entry. He noted a folded sheet of parchment that had fallen to the side when he'd opened the box and found that it was a letter of acceptance, addressed to himself, from the Guild. He knew for a fact that he had never applied. She'd applied for him? There was no way she'd pulled that off on her own. He picked up the pin from its cushioned nest and held it up. Its golden surface gleamed in the firelight. He momentarily regretted that he had given her a rather lackluster gift of thick slippers and hangover potion, but she'd still have to prove herself if he was to truly believe that she was done being a pain in the arse.

* * *

Hermione woke up with a start. Someone was knocking on the door. It took her a moment to remember where she was before she feebly called out, "Coming!" and slid out of bed, wrapping herself in a thick robe before answering. To her astonishment, it was the elf Bibble.

"Very sorry, Miss, but the Mistress is hoping you can join her for breakfast in the conservatory?" Her round eyes stared hopefully up at the young witch.

"Right, er, of course! Just let me get dressed and I'll… where did you say?"

"The conservatory, Miss. Bibble will wait here."

Hermione had never quite gotten over her awkwardness with elves, though Kreacher had given her quite a different perspective than Dobby. Poor Dobby. She sighed and invited the elf in while she changed in the en suite bathroom. She emerged a few minutes later to the sight of Bibble standing with her hands clasped in front, waiting ever so patiently if you please. Hermione offered a smile and announced she was ready and was led down the stairs and down a few hallways until Bibble open the now familiar set of double doors with a wave of her hand.

The entire room was bathed in morning light that was streaming through the many panes of glass. Narcissa was seated at a small bistro table hidden behind some large ferns.

"So good of you to come, Hermione," the woman said with a smile.

"I'm sorry to have kept you waiting," the younger witch squeaked in reply. She was quickly put at ease by Narcissa handing her a cup of tea, already prepared the way she liked it.

"Oh, not at all. I just thought we could have a moment, witch-to-witch. The boys will be down soon and then it will be impossible. I'm sure you know what I mean." She smiled kindly at the younger witch.

"Of course." Hermione swallowed, pushing away the nervousness rising to the surface. "What would you like to speak about?"

"I happen to know that Draco has asked you to help him figure out what his grandfather failed to pass along to his son and grandson."

Hermione nodded.

"I find it exceedingly kind on your behalf. I'm afraid my family has been nothing but cruel toward you during most of your time at Hogwarts. I just wanted to express my personal gratitude for this and the many other kindnesses you've shown my son this year. I believe he has already shown you the library?"

"Yes, it's magnificent."

"I hope that you're able to find what you're looking for. And if you don't, please – please don't think that you've failed us. I've heard you take things rather seriously, but please, this is ultimately not your responsibility. That lies with Draco and his… his father. "

"A-about that…" Hermione began nervously.

"Yes?"

"Does Mr. Malfoy know that I'm spending the holiday here?"

"He does, but it's hardly his decision, regardless of how he may feel about the matter."

"And… well, how does he feel about it?"

"I wouldn't worry too much. I think he's going to find the world much changed when he comes home in a few months." She paused for a moment. "It's been… difficult to swallow. When you realise that everything your family has stood for, has fought for… had indoctrinated you with… that it's all born out of hatred and fear. Hermione, you have taught me much in very little time, whether you realise it or not. And I hope that from here onward we can do better, be better. Together." She offered a genuine smile, tentative but hopeful.

Hermione smiled back, appreciating the woman's honesty and grateful that she'd decided to accept her invitation to stay over the holidays. She'd found that, in spite of their previous interactions, which were mostly rather distant, this Narcissa seemed to prefer speaking through actions more than words. In a way it was reassuring, no need to wonder about lip service and pretense. They continued their chat, getting to know one another in a way neither had even imagined before.

About an hour later, Draco and Blaise drifted in through the doorway grumping about how no one had woken them and afraid they'd missed breakfast. Narcissa grinned and gave Hermione a conspiratorial wink. Hermione permitted herself a smile in return. It was definitely strange becoming friendly with Narcissa, but underneath the cold exteriour she was known to project, she was intelligent, caring, and had a delightful sense of humour.

A short time later, Narcissa announced that they would be opening Christmas gifts in the parlour. Draco and Blaise high-fived like excited school boys while Hermione tittered nervously. Draco smiled shyly at her as Narcissa swept down the corridors, leaving the three of them to follow in her wake. The parlour had one of the most lovely Christmas trees that Hermione had ever seen, which was saying a lot considering all the trees she'd seen over the years at Hogwarts.

The tree was at least ten feet tall, wrapped in a shiny wide golden ribbon from top to bottom and tiny lights flickered along its branches. The edges of some branches were adorned with bits of ivory lace while others had pinecones or golden baubles. Beneath the tree was tucked a white quilt with gold trim in which several small wrapped gifts were nestled. Hermione spotted the gifts that she had brought among the pile and sighed in relief. She hated to admit it, but she could understand why families were very attached to their elves.

Narcissa insisted on giving her gifts first. To Draco she'd given new dragon hide gloves and a cashmere jumper. Blaise received cufflinks that were shaped like wine casks, silver with a mahogany inlay. Hermione was given a small beautiful bottle of perfume that, the moment she loosened the lid, filled the room with a heavenly scent. A little of that was going to go a long way and she dreaded to think how much it had cost.

Blaise went next, presenting Narcissa with a silver bookmark that had small jewel-encrusted leaf at one end. Hermione opened her a small bag next which contained sugar quills as well as a actual one, all white with a silver nib, and several bottles of ink. Draco's parcel contained a quidditch-themed desk set, complete with a snitch-shaped inkwell.

They all insisted Hermione went next, so she nervously handed Narcissa a small silver bag. The blonde was smiled broadly when she discovered that it contained her favourite holiday sweets from Honeydukes as well as a small leather-bound journal. Blaise quickly slipped the ribbons from his gift box and was delighted to find chocolate truffles and a new wool scarf. Hermione smiled shyly at Draco when she handed him a wrapped box. It, too, contained sweets, this time a mix of small confections created just for the holidays. Beneath was a slim volume about Applied Arithmancy, which he had talked about pursuing when he was finished at Hogwarts.

At last it was Draco's turn. He handed Blaise his gift first, a new fob watch that would vibrate whenever someone was telling a lie, a bit like a rich man's sneakoscope. To his mum he gave a cameo-style brooch with opals set around the etching of the head of a hare, her favourite animal. He the handed Hermione a slim package that she knew at once was a book. She was rather pleased to see it was the volume on runes that she had been perusing that day their paths crossed at the book shop. She was shocked, however, when he handed her a second package.

"Draco, you really didn't have to," she demured.

"Just open it, Granger," he replied impatiently. The seconds seemed to drag by as she slowly pulled open the paper.

She audibly gasped when the small music box was reveal. She turned the small crank, careful not to force it, and a lilting, beautiful melody came forth. It somehow cheered her, filling those spaces of sadness about having another Christmas without her parents, without some of her friends and mentors who were no longer alive, and in its place a balm which she had not sought but nevertheless soothed her heart. Tears pricked her eyes and slowly rolled down one of her cheeks.

"Thank you," she breathed. "It's beautiful."

Draco leaned forward and wiped her tears with the pad of his thumb, not caring that they were hardly alone.

"I'll tell you the story about it sometime, hmm?"

Hermione nodded and thanked everyone profusely for the gifts, giving each of them a hug in turn, first Blaise, then Narcissa, and, lastly, Draco who hardly knew what to do with his hands. His cheeks grew pink under his mother's thoughtful gaze.

* * *

Late that afternoon, the three of them left Narcissa at the Manor to take a visit to Avebury henge, just as Draco had promised. Hermione, of course, brought her new book from which she had been sharing passages since lunch.

Draco apparated them there and the three of them landed behind a dumpster in an alley not too far away and led them along the familiar path to the henge. They had transfigured their cloaks into thick winter parkas so as to not stand out and indeed they blended in easily with the Muggles who were out for an afternoon stroll.

Avebury was different than some of the other henges. They were free to wander about the stones and no one paid them any mind. Many of the original stones were long gone, having been used to build the town and what stood there was thanks mostly to a wizard who had a keen interest in restoring the henge to its proper state. Hermione scoured the standing stones, looking for the remainders of runes and was beginning to think that none were left. Blaise suddenly called them over to one he had been admiring.

"There, near the base. What's that?"

Hermione crouched down to take a better look and let out a yelp of joy.

"You found it!"

"What is it that I've found?" Blaise asked incredulously.

"It's the runes that, rumour has it, have the ability to give you your true heart's desire. You have to read them aloud on the prescribed day, of course, and put a bit of blood just there and then your hands like so." She indicated a place just off to the side of the runes and put her hands momentarily on the stone. "I mean, I hardly know if it's true, but imagine if it were!"

Draco scoffed.

"Really, Granger? _That's_ what all this was about?"

Hermione stood and made her annoyance known.

"It's just a story, Malfoy. Everyone knows that something like that is a load of thestral dung, but what if it could somehow help? There are a lot of caveats to the story. We can't wish that Voldemort never existed, though I'd do it in a heartbeat. But I _could_ wish that we find a way to lift the memory charm from my parents."

Draco sighed, knowing that he'd responded rather unkindly, considering he was the one jonesing to bring her here, to make her happy.

"Sorry, Granger, I just have a difficult time in believing in wishes being granted from a stone. I know it's special, and I know there's power here. I can feel it. But I don't trust it. It's old, for one thing. I dunno. Anyway, what's the date you have to come make a wish?"

"Well, it has to be a full moon during the month of January."

"So… next week," Blaise chipped in.

Hermione and Draco turned to look at him in surprise.

"What? I, uh, follow the lunar cycles."

Draco raised an eyebrow.

"Since when, mate?"

"Since I started brewing with Rosmerta. She follows the lunar cycle to time out certain stages. Says it makes it better. Who am I to argue?"

Draco still looked incredulous, but Hermione nodded as if she understood.

"So shall we try it?" she asked, turning back to Draco.

"What, come back and make a wish?"

She'd never taken him to be as thick as his old mates, which made her a bit prickly.

"What else, Malfoy? Pretend we're werewolves and howl at the moon?"

"I still don't see how it will work. But alright. If you promise that we'll go through my grandfather's journals and notes once more before then."

"Deal," she replied and held out her hand to shake.

Draco took it tentatively, once more shocked to even be touching her. Blaise, who knew his friend rather well, smirked.

"Alright lovers, shall we take a stroll around town before heading back?"

The couple's cheeks both grew slightly pink.

"Yeah, alright," Draco replied, attempting to get back to his usual swagger.

* * *

**31 December 1998 (part 1)**

The three of them had spent the previous two days combing through journals in the office and comparing them to several old volumes in the library that Draco had overlooked during the summer and Hermione felt it was time to assemble some of the pieces, much to Draco's relief. After all, the holiday break was nearly at an end.

"How much do you know of your family history?" Hermione inquired.

"Enough, I suppose."

"Do you think the clue about choices has anything to do with something your family has done in the past or does it refer to you yourself?"

"Both maybe. I mean, I suppose my family chose to come here. And we chose to become more interested in being Purebloods when the Anti-Muggle acts were passed. Rumour has it that a Malfoy attempted to court Queen Elizabeth."

"Really?" asked Hermione with renewed interest.

"Who?" asked Blaise.

"She was only one of the most formidable queens of England, back when it was nearly always a man who ruled the Empire," she supplied. "So back to the idea of remaining pure. You know that's what that Greek word you found means, right?" She pointed to his notes where he'd copied "καθαρός". "This other note 'il faut en repenser' is French, of course. But what does it mean? You have to rethink what? Your choices? Your past?"

"This is why I asked for your help, isn't it? My mum gave me these cufflinks," he pointed to the open box where they laid, "because she said they'd help with the family magic, but I don't even know what it does or how to use it."

"Have you put them on yet?" suggested Blaise.

"Well, yeah, once or twice, but I didn't bother bringing them to Hogwarts. You think I should put them on?"

"Well, I dunno. We're going back to Avebury in a few days, right? That place was buzzing with magic. Suppose it would help you do whatever it is you're supposed to be able to do?" Blaise continued.

"I think he's right, Malfoy. If you're going to channel something, it's a good a place as any."

"So you don't think the magic has anything to do with the house or grounds?"

"I suppose it could, but then it would be far more recent int he scheme of things, wouldn't it? When did you family come here from France?"

"With William the Conqueror."

"Oh, well… I suppose that's been a while. But if it's 'ancient magic' as these notes claim, it should be even older than that. You know, maybe that's what you could wish for," she chirped.

"I'm not wishing on some stupid rock," he grumbled.

And that was when Hermione at last suggested asking his grandfather's portrait, assuming that one had been painted. Draco felt rather foolish since he hadn't so much as considered it. In fact, he'd avoided all family portraits since the end of the war and, to be honest, avoided the rooms they hung in as well. Narcissa had remodeled a great deal of the house by this point, but the portraits were upstairs where they'd gotten hidden away during the time that the were forced to play host to Voldemort and the other Death Eaters. It was a part of the house that had gone largely untouched during his lifetime at the very least and he was afraid of what unpleasantness might greet his new Muggle-born friend. But she persisted and Blaise was no help at all, so after a late lunch they set off for the northeast wing. The elves had largely kept up with the cleaning, though they'd been a busy lately with all the renovations.

They ascended the staircase and walked toward a dimly lit corridor styled in the sort of elegance most people could only dream of having in their own home. The Malfoys may have been bigots, but the house itself was a testament to centuries of indulging in only the best. Draco hadn't wanted to say it aloud before, but the closer they got to the room with portraits, the more he was concerned about what they might say when Hermione was present.

"Wait," he said at last. "I should go in alone. They might become… hostile…if we all go in."

"You mean if I go in," Hermione corrected.

"Well…."

"Look, I've suffered Walburga Black shrieking at me every time I entered Grimauld until recently when they've found a way to shut her up. I'm not going to hear anything I haven't before."

"You may have done that for Harry and the Order, but I don't want you to have to do it for me. At least give me a few minutes before you both come in. Alright?" He looked at Blaise for help.

"No problem, mate. I know how complicated family can be, even when they're dead."

Giving his old friend a knowing look, Draco squeezed through the doorway, preventing Hermione so much as a glimpse of the room and thus preventing any portrait from seeing her as well.

"Well, well, well," pronounced a high-pitched voice. "Look who graces us with his presence, little Lord Malfoy."

"Yes, shame about his father, isn't it," said another.

"That's what happens when one is on the losing side," added a rather bored voice.

"At least they were able to rid the world of some of its filth," said another deeper, snooty voice.

A woman's voice tutted from across the room. "Filth was what happened in this house, Augustus, and you know it. But I suppose I never did enjoy violence as much as you."

"No, you'd rather lord it over from your cushioned window seat and send someone else to do your dirty work."

"Yes, but never in the house, you know."

The man in the portrait over a forgotten fireplace cleared his throat. "Why _are_ you here, Lord Malfoy?"

"I'm hardly Lord Malfoy," Draco said evenly, controlling his emotions. "My father is still Lord Malfoy."

"He has disgraced the Malfoy name," a woman announced. "No Malfoy goes to prison!"

"He deserved it," Draco retorted. "We all did. The only reason I'm not is because of a woman who is on the other side of the door. A woman of whom most of you are not worthy." He glared at the portraits around him. "Of whom I'm not worthy. You will say nothing nasty or snobbish about her. Not in her presence, nor in her absence."

"You can hardly control what we do, little Draco," replied the voice over the fireplace.

"Then perhaps I shall lock this room and lose the key somewhere? Perhaps in a river or down a well?"

"You wouldn't!" the high-pitched voice squeaked.

Draco sneered. He hadn't sneered much lately and it felt rather good to slip back into it, especially where it was merited.

"She's coming in here to ask you lot questions. You will answer her plainly, no games. And like I said, nothing nasty, or you'll regret it."

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This chapter was getting a bit long, so I decided to cut this last part in two and this seemed the logical place! Thank you for your patience in spite of the slow updates. Hope you enjoyed this little read. Until next time, where we'll hear from the portraits and celebrate New Year's Eve!
> 
> Thank you once again for the kind comments and kudos. They've definitely helped me get back into the swing of things and at least get the Christmas bit out before some of us do a little celebrating of our own. Whatever you celebrate this season, even if it's just surviving this year, I hope you can find a small slice of joy in knowing that you've made it. Here's to hoping and praying that the next one is better!


	14. Ringing in a New Era

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The three friends unlock the mystery surrounding Draco's supposed family magic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I own nothing pertaining to Harry Potter and the wizarding world and earn nothing from writing this bit of fiction. Apologies for any typos or mistakes you might find!
> 
> Looks like I finished this chapter just in time! Happy New Year and thanks for reading!

**31 December 1998 (continued)**

Draco opened the door at last and ushered his friends in, glaring once more over his shoulder at the portraits. There were several noises of outrage and the sound of murmuring as others began grumbling quietly to themselves.

"You'll be the ruin of us all!" shrieked a portrait that looked to be at least three hundred years old from her style of dress.

Draco shot another glare.

"Go on. Go on and I'll get the paint thinner," he hissed.

Hermione remained unflappable and Blaise stood just behind her, silently observing the portraits.

"Ignore them," Hermione advised in a superior tone. "Which one is your grandfather?"

"Over here, then. Come on, both of you."

Draco led them over to a large portrait at the other end of the room. One who, he'd noticed earlier, had not joined in on the conversation held only minutes before. Disdain was clearly written on the portrait's face, lip curled slightly into a sneer.

"I can see the resemblance," snickered Hermione.

Both Draco and his grandfather flared their nostrils. Blaise quietly chortled at the mirrored response.

"Draco, if you won't ask him, I will," Hermione continued impatiently.

The wizard seemed to collect himself at that and began questioning the portrait who flatly refused to give any direct answers whatsoever.

* * *

"Do you think there's some sort of curse that would prevent him from telling you outright?" she asked later when they were back in the comforts of the library.

"Maybe. I think he was just being a tricky bastard. Would you expect anything less from my father's father?"

Hermione grinned. "No, I suppose not."

Blaise busied himself reading through the notes Hermione had taken during the 'interrogation', as he liked to call it. (Hermione _did_ bristle slightly at that.)

"Hey, what do you make of this?" he called out later as he was thumbing through yet another magical compendium. "There are stories of wizards and witches who were able to control the elements, in a fashion. Most went on to be Masters in Charms as the magic needed came naturally and without expense to their magical cores. Rumor persists that these abilities are inherited rather than learned but it is rare that any have confessed to such abilities, fearing the reaction of others. It seems that they were passed from one generation to the next by means of a special ceremony where hands were laid on and the power was awakened in the initiate."

"What!" Hermione jumped to her feet and rushed over to where Blaise was sitting. "Let me see that!"

She reread it to herself and gasped.

"That's it, Malfoy! That would make perfect sense of why you'd need something for channeling the magic. It's like using a wand but better, more powerful!"

"You're forgetting one thing, Granger. My grandfather is dead and my father, who is in prison, was never given any special familial magic. How am I supposed to inherit something from a dead wizard?"

"Perhaps we ought to go back and ask?"

Draco exhaled a long sigh. "Do you really think he's going to help us?"

"Are you a Slytherin, Malfoy, or a Hufflepuff?"

Blaise laughed and received a rather sour look from his friend.

"She's right, you know?" he shrugged.

"I'm always right, Malfoy. Why else would you have asked for my help?"

She turned on her heel and marched in the direction of the room leaving the two wizards to hurry after her.

Draco cut her off at the door when they finally reached it.

"Let me handle this."

"Fine. But we're coming in with you."

Draco gave them both a nod and the three re-entered the room. There was less grumbling this time and more excited whispers. It made Hermione wonder what they had been talking about while the three of them were elsewhere. Or had one of them somehow overheard? She knew the occupants were able to shift to other frames - was there one that was secreted into a corner of the library and they hadn't noticed? She tucked that thought away for later.

"Grandfather, I've decided that your notes were a load of rubbish and that you had no special magical abilities at all."

"I doubt seriously you would come all the way up here merely to berate me, Draco."

"I've come to ask one of the other portraits since you weren't fit to inherit the Malfoy magic."

The painted man's expression changed from boredom to one of irritation.

"You insolent little wretch. You'd insult your own grandfather?"

"It's not my fault you made the questionable choice of following Riddle. That's what it all comes back to, doesn't it? But when I was given the freedom to make a better choice, I took it. I refuse to let our family continue in the path of darkness."

Some of the other portraits began to take note of the young wizard before them. Several shook their heads or screwed up their faces in contempt while others began to applaud.

"That's what it is," Hermione suddenly whispered. "He's already done it without realising it."

"What's he done?" inquired Blaise, trying to follow along.

"He chose a different path. He's purified the magic. Maybe he doesn't need his grandfather at all."

"What's that, Granger?" Draco turned and looked straight at her. "Why don't I need him?"

"While I am loathe to admit it, she is correct, Draco. I can't assist you in this. You'll have to find someone living to share their magic with you."

"But how am I supposed to do that?"

"Use your head, boy. Just because it's your family's legacy doesn't mean you can't get help from someone other than a Malfoy. It's dormant in you already. You simply need to awaken it."

* * *

"This is so exciting, Malfoy!" Hermione squealed once they were out of earshot of the portraits.

"Granger, you really do get off on impossible projects, don't you?" Draco said with a smirk.

Hermione's cheeks grew pink.

"Well, you did ask for my help. And now you know what to do."

Blaise nodded and gave Draco a shrug as if to say she had a point. Again.

"You should ask Professor Snape what you should do. He would know."

"He's had to play nanny to me enough, don't you think?"

"Don't be so proud, Malfoy. He's your godfather after all. He _does_ care about you. In his own fashion."

"It's not like you wanted to talk to him about your parents."

Blaise began edging toward the door, not wanting to get involved in the latest debate. As soon as he reached the threshold, he scarpered, seeking out Narcissa in hopes of having some afternoon teacakes and a bit of mothering. Neither Draco nor Hermione took notice.

"That's different. He… he tolerates me because he has to."

"Right, which is why he's been rather civil with you this year."

"Maybe he's tired of being nasty. Maybe he's turned over a new leaf since the end of the war."

"Or maybe he's found you're not quite so intolerable. After all, even you and I are getting on these days."

"Well that's different, don't you think?"

"How so?"

"Well… you're not vile this year. And… and I think the war changed you."

He took a step closer to her and she suddenly seemed nervous.

"How so?"

"I think you were only like that before because you thought you had to be. Because it's what you were taught. But now you've seen the truth of things."

"Which is?" His voice grew softer. He watched her as she cast about for the door with her eyes. It somehow made her much more interesting. He'd grown rather fond of making her uncomfortable. And when her cheeks were a bit pink like that, it made him want to find out if they were as warm as they looked. He attempted to bring himself back from the brink of folly and casually put his hands in his pockets.

"The truth that your family was following a man who was hateful and a hypocrite. He was only a half-blood to begin with. And people like me have never stolen anyone's magic."

He made a noise of agreement, not trusting himself to speak.

"Where did Blaise go?" she asked suddenly, ending the moment.

Draco looked around and, sure enough, the wizard was no longer in the room.

* * *

Snape had spent a fair bit of his day fidgeting with things. He packed his gifts back in the small bag he'd be taking back to the school in just two days, carefully rewrapping the parcel from Martinez and placing it at the bottom of the bag. He was still unsure what he thought of the gesture though he supposed he would have to talk to her about it when she returned. He didn't relish the idea of a conversation with her alone anywhere, but he also didn't want to make a fool of himself in front of the others.

He attempted to the tidy the house a bit and do some minor repairs, but became discouraged after a couple of attempts to repair a broken floorboard in a corner of his bedroom resulted in splinters in his thumb and curses streaming from his mouth. It would have to keep for now. He slid a heavy trunk on top of it and tried to put it out of his mind. Difficult to do when he was removing the splinters, as even magically done it is an unpleasant experience.

He took out his frustration on the dust and cobwebs, sending it all sailing out the window in a cloud of filth that headed straight for an open rubbish bin that normally was for burning weeds from the garden. His house moderately more clean, he sat once more and stewed by the fire, his mind drifting again to the fate of Hermione's parents. He summoned a few books from his shelf and began poring over them, looking for a clue that would help him decide on a course of action. A glance at the clock revealed that he still had four hours before he was to floo to the Manor. Plenty of time to mull things over before the chit plied him with a million questions or, worse, gets worked over his involvement.

* * *

Dinner was a smoother event than the previous meal with Snape, but Narcissa assumed it was because the awkwardness of the last dinner did not resurface. Blaise had already informed her of their progress that afternoon with the portraits and she was grateful to hear that it was nothing overly shocking, though she had suspected something along the lines of a sort of innate magic. Hermione seemed more composed, though at times lose in thought, and Draco seemed less given to tease the witch mercilessly. After the pudding was eaten, Narcissa suggested that they all retire to the large sitting room where tea and coffee were served. The group of them had a pleasant chat around the fire, talking about the upcoming term, exams, and how long Blaise planned on working with Rosmerta. As it turned out, he had already signed on until the end of the school year, with a review on his performance scheduled for mid-June. Midnight was drawing near and Narcissa suggested yet another change of venue: this time to the conservatory to be able to observe the stars as they welcomed in the new year.

Snape rose to be first to vacate, hoping to slip away and avoid the rest of the festivities, but found himself detained by Hermione, who had taken hold of the edge of his cloak as he made to pass by her.

"Professor Snape, might I have a word with you?"

His irritated look nearly squelched her courage, but she soldiered on.

"I thought that as my advisor for the year, well, you could be the best person to, you know, advise me on a matter."

He gave her a curt nod and the two of them remained while the others went on ahead.

A shiver raced up her spine as his dark eyes narrowed at her.

"What is it, Miss Granger?"

"Well, it _is_ true that Malfoy spoke to you out of turn. I should have liked to been able to decide for myself if I wished to reveal such a thing to you. No offense, sir."

"Was there anything else you wished to say?" he drawled when she quieted.

"Well, there was one thing."

"Go on then."

"It's about Malfoy. I thought you the best person to turn to, though he refused. It's about his family magic, sir. We've figured it out."

"That hardly qualifies me to be the best person."

"It's just that… well, it requires discretion. And you _are_ someone that he trusts."

"I suppose," he answered lazily, thinking it over.

"He's being rather silly about it, but he would listen to you, sir. More than anyone else." Her attempt to mollify his ego seemed to have worked, for his frown softened slightly.

"I'll leave it to him to explain, sir, but I'm afraid he'll likely not come to you on his own. He feels like you've rather done enough for him over the years. Which you likely have," she rushed, "only it's just that it would be a shame for him to never really find out about his magical legacy simply because he's too silly to ask for help."

Snape eyed her carefully as he thought over what she'd just said. She'd said nothing false and he found himself curious as to just what Draco was due to magically inherit. His father obviously had never sought it out, but his attentions were likely elsewhere and not really given to endless research. Of course, he didn't have a witch with such a zeal for knowledge prodding him either. Narcissa had seemed rather content to leave things lie, but with Lucius there was also always the danger that he would be further exploited, a fear that came to be reality when their home became the base camp for the Death Eaters. But now that the shadow of Tom Riddle was beginning to lift from the family, perhaps it was time for them to rise up, for Draco to pull his family from shame to its rightful place as one of the most powerful, influential families in Britain. Just as long as it doesn't go to his head. Perhaps he was the best wizard for the job after all as he was not given to inflating the young Malfoy's ego.

"Miss Granger, I did a bit of research today," he admitted to her at last. "And while I don't want to unduly get your hopes up, I think that there might be a way to help your parents. I'll need to consult with some others, of course, but if you can manage a few more weeks, I can give a more definitive answer at that time."

Hermione was grateful for both his candor and willingness to help her and found herself profusely thanking him for both before she caught hold of herself and suddenly stopped.

The wizard studied her while she prattled. He expected a bit of gratitude but he hardly knew how to handle such an outburst other than with disdain, but that hardly seemed appropriate given the circumstances.

"If you're quite finished, Miss Granger, I think it would be wise to join the others."

"Oh! You're right, of course."

He swept past her without further ado and led her down the candle-lit hallways where the others waited, drinks in hand, for the clock to strike midnight.

"Alright, Granger?" Blaise whispered to her when she stepped quietly into the space between he and Draco.

"Yeah, alright. I'll tell you both after. You were right, by the way, Draco. He might actually be able to help my parents."

Draco grew smug. "You doubted me."

"Well, I'm sorry," she hissed. "Old habits and all that."

Narcissa handed the latecomers their drinks as they waited, engaged in some light small talk.

They didn't have long to wait before the clocks all throughout the house rang out, chiming midnight.

"To the future," Narcissa called out as they raised their glasses of champagne together.

"To the future," they all echoed as they took turns clinking them together before taking a drink.

Snape bent down and offered Narcissa a kiss on the cheek, wishing she and Lucius the best in the coming year. She returned one in kind, thanking him for his friendship and suggesting that perhaps he, too, could at last have a happier year.

Hermione received an awkward kiss on both cheeks at once as the young wizard on either side of her wished her a happy new year. She kissed them each in turn after, her cheeks warm from the drink and the sudden physical contact.

"Happy new year, you lot. May you both stay out of trouble for once in your lives."

"Happy new year, Granger, may you continue to never get caught," quipped Blaise.

Draco laughed as he replied similarly.

After they finished their glasses and Snape at last managed to excuse himself, the three of them hurried off to Draco's room where Hermione told them all about what Snape said, minus the bits about Draco.

"You know he's serious," Draco stated.

"I trust him," replied Hermione with a nod.

"I'm sure he appreciates that," mused Blaise, feeling rather philosophical after a few glasses of champagne. He'd refilled his glass twice while the others sipped their first (and only) rather slowly. "Only thing I don't get, why is he suddenly so benevolent. He hated you before this year."

"Hatred might be a bit strong of a term, don't you think?" inquired Hermione.

"No, he was definitely out to get you. You and Potter and Weasley," agreed Draco. "Of course, so was I," he finished with a wink.

"And instead, now you're spending the new year with us, love." Blaise took her hand in his own and kissed the back of it, amusement in his eyes that were fixed on Draco's narrowed gaze.

Hermione flushed and looked over at the wall, too embarrassed to look at either of them and thus missed their exchange.

Draco attempted to change the subject. "You still want to go back to Avebury?"

"But of course!" she responded, turning back to Draco. Blaise was still holding her hand. "Just because Professor Snape is willing to help, doesn't mean that I'm not willing to do a little magical experimenting on my own. Perhaps you should too, Draco. Now that you know a bit more about your own magic."

Blaise pulled her hand to his leg before she suddenly wrenched her fingers away.

"Honestly Zabini, what's gotten into you?" she laughed. "I think I'll be going to bed."

She rose to her feet and Draco followed, offering to walk her to her room.

"I think I can find it on my own, but thank you," she smiled.

Draco was looking at her a bit strangely, like he had just been thoroughly disappointed by something but was trying to play it off.

"Happy New Year, Malfoy," she whispered to him and walked away, relieved when she heard his door click shut once more and she was alone in the hallway. She made her way to her room, humming softly to herself and trying not to think too hard about how nice Draco smelled when she kissed his cheek. Or how his lips felt on her own skin.

Draco gave Blaise a hard look after she left.

"Do that again, Zabini, and I'll hex your bollocks off, so help me."

Blaise gave him a stupid smile. "Do what? Enjoy the fact that there was a nice bird that let me hold her hand?"

His friend's eyes flashed. "She's not just some 'nice bird'."

"Right. She's your 'nice bird'." He got up and made his way from the room, but paused and stuck his head back in before he left. "Although, you haven't made any real claims on her, so maybe _I_ should."

Blaise quickly closed the door, laughing to himself as something smashed into it seconds later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Until next time, friends. Here's to hoping that this new year will be better!
> 
> Cue the Counting Crows playing "Long December"...


	15. Secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some things are revealed while something far more important is concealed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I own nothing pertaining to Harry Potter and the wizarding world and earn nothing from writing this bit of fiction. All mistakes are my own.

**2 January 1999**

Draco had been trying to remain completely normal around Hermione, but, thanks to Blaise's constant needling (and flirting with the witch), he was a total wreck on the inside. Narcissa mostly left the three of them to their own devices during the day while she continued working on another wing of the house, which meant that they were free to continue puzzling out what Draco should do about his family magic. He'd begun to think that perhaps Hermione was on to something, but he really preferred to speak to Snape about it first. Unfortunately they wouldn't see him again until they returned to Hogwarts.

On the morning of the second, a thick frost coated the grounds and even the windows were painted with ice crystals. They took breakfast in the conservatory where the late morning sun was slowly warming the room naturally and then at Hermione's insistence, they combed through the library one more time for any scrap of useful information before Hermione would try the simple ritual that night. By lunchtime they'd given up and lazed about the rest of the afternoon, aside from a bit of broom jousting in the garden which was more or less charging at one another and trying to knock the other off his broom. Hermione was given the task of refereeing, the feeling that they were showing off a bit for her nagging at her. After Blaise gained a rather glorious black eye and she was nearly frozen solid, she called the match, 3-2, Blaise. He suggested that as a winner he deserved a kiss, but she shoved him playfully aside and trotted indoors. Draco was not-so-secretly pleased.

By evening the temperature had plummeted and, as the hours wore on, Hermione considered calling off their planned trip to Avebury. Blaise seemed to agree that perhaps it was for the best, but Draco, perhaps surprisingly since he was usually the first to complain, had insisted that they go anyway.

"You'll regret it if you don't and I'll have to hear about it all term. And anyway, that's why you came here, isn't it?"

Hermione, who had been thoroughly enjoying her holiday for other reasons, paused.

"Well, I suppose you might be right," she replied slowly.

"Get your warm things on. We'll meet back here at 11:30."

Hermione pulled on the warmest jumper she owed, boots, and the heavy cloak she wore during the harsh Scottish winters. She still had a few minutes, so she flicked through the pages of her new book one more time, pausing again at the description of the runes in Avebury. But what she remembered translating, what she could recall seeing carved into the stone and what was pictured in the book didn't seem to match. How was that possible? How could runes carved into a stone thousands of years ago be changed? While she puzzled that over, she slipped her wand into its holster and pulled gloves and hat into place before she headed back down to meet Draco and Blaise, suddenly rather nervous about whatever it was that would happen that night.

They arrived in the same place as last time, but this time heading straight for the stones. The moonlight on the snow made the area glow with a soft light. They disillusioned themselves and Hermione cast a Muffliato over the group, Blaise covering their footprints left behind as they went. The energy was the same as last time, air thrumming with an amount of magic Hermione rarely felt outside of Hogwarts.

"You sure about this, Hermione?" Draco enquired.

"Welllll… remember what I said last time?" she began as they approached the stone. "Let me see… yes, I knew I'd translated it right. In the book, the runes are recorded very differently. You see this one here? It means "heart". Well in the book it has one that means "soul". Why would it be any different? It's not like the stone's changed."

She looked from Blaise to Draco, but neither could think of a satisfactory answer.

"Did you know that in some ancient cultures they saw the heart as the place where the soul resided? But in others the soul was something completely other than the heart, which was more like when we say 'mind'."

"As fascinating as that is, Granger, I'm beginning to freeze," Draco complained.

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Fine, I'm going to do it anyway. I know what I want, so there's no use wasting the chance to try and do something about it."

She pulled out her wand and neatly sliced her hand, letting the blood begin to well up before she placed it on the stone.

Just as she finished pronouncing the spell that would supposedly grant her wish, there was a flare of magic around her, a brilliant purple flame, that faded as quickly as it appeared. Draco and Blaise stared at her in shock.

"You… feeling alright, Granger?" Blaise inquired.

Her eyes were wide as were her lips, face frozen in surprise.

A moment later, Draco fell backwards into the snow.

* * *

Hundreds of miles away, Severus Snape had been peeling back the quilt on his bed and sliding beneath it when suddenly he felt a burst of magic explode over him. He grabbed his wand, lit the candles in the room, and cast every spell he could think of to find the person at fault. To his irritation, he found no one and that was when he remembered that Draco and his friends were supposed to go to the henge that night. He'd overheard them saying something about it. He wondered what on earth they'd gotten into. He threw his warm clothing back on, wrapped himself in his cloak and apparated to Avebury.

* * *

Even farther away, in his dank cell in Azkaban, which had only moderately improved since they'd gotten rid of the Dementors, Lucius Malfoy awoke with a start, every hair on his body on end.

"What in the fresh hell was that?" he cursed. Around him he heard nothing but snores, murmurs and the usual night noises. He was on tenterhooks the rest of the night, waking at every small noise.

* * *

Snape appeared with a soft 'pop' and stared down at the shocked face of Hermione Granger.

"What did you do?" he hissed.

She blinked and suddenly found she could speak once more.

"I did the ritual. Just like it said. Only…"

"Only what, Miss Granger?"

She pointed over at Draco, who he hadn't noticed yet as he had sunken into the thick snow.

"You idiot!" he snarled. "What incantation did you use?" He hovered over Draco and began to check his vital signs.

"The one in the book, sir."

"Which book?" he bit out.

"The one on the history of the henge."

"You will show me. First, though… Renervate!" He pointed his wand at Draco who began to come to.

He grabbed Draco and they all apparated back to Malfoy Manor. Narcissa, who they found up and pacing nervously, made sure that Draco was settled with hot chocolate and warm blankets thanks to one of the elves. Snape ordered Hermione to fetch her book and meet him in the adjoining room.

"You might have thought to ask a second opinion before casting this sort of charm," he growled.

"Well, I thought that —"

"You thought wrong."

Hermione was nervous. She hadn't seen Snape this angry with her since Sixth Year.

"What have I done?" she asked worriedly.

"Who were you thinking of when you said the incantation?"

"My parents, of course."

"Just your parents?"

"Well, I might have been thinking about Malfoy as well. You don't mean that I did something to him, do you?"

Snape exhaled slowly so that he could keep himself from throttling her over her idiocy.

"You've enacted some very old magic, Miss Granger. There's a reason why we don't take school trips to stone circles. What you thought was about granting a measly wish was actually a powerful spell to bind your magical core to someone else. As your parents are Muggles, that means they've been unaffected. Unfortunately for Mr. Malfoy he apparently was not spared. He was also standing next to you, which is why the force of it knocked him out."

"Oh, Merlin," she wailed. "He'll never forgive me."

"I'm afraid he'll have no choice when you finally tell him. I suggest, however, that you wait. There will be… complications."

"Does Narcissa know?"

"She might suspect. Even Lucius was bound to have felt something."

Her brown eyes grew wide with fright.

"Even I did," he continued.

"What? But how did— ?"

Snape sighed and rubbed his face with the hand not presently holding Hermione’s book.

“Frankly, I don’t even know, but we’re going to have to solve that little mystery another day.”

“I really can’t imagine why,” she said firmly. “Did you sign something when you were made my advisor?”

“Nothing. But no matter. There are still, it seems, a great many things about the world of magic that you seemed to have not bothered to learn.”

"I've learned a great deal, sir," she retorted. "Anything I've been allowed to learn and then some."

"And yet not enough to avoid embroiling yourself in something that will effect you for the rest of your life. In centuries past, this ritual was a way of both protecting a couple and making their magic far stronger. When both parties do the ritual it will combine their magic."

Hermione did the one thing she almost never did, especially not in front of Snape: she panicked.

"What do I do!?"

Snape had to bite back a satisfied sneer. Well, he didn't have to, but he felt that he ought to have at least a tiny bit of compassion for the fretting witch before him, even if she did commit her biggest blunder to date.

"Seeing as Draco did not also pledge his magic to you, the only negative effects will be felt by you."

"Such as?"

"If he overextends himself, he'll begin using up your magic as well."

"Do you think that's likely?"

"Perhaps not. He's generally not as reckless as… some." He narrowed his eyes at her further for emphasis.

Hermione's shoulders slumped and Snape had the horrid premonition that she might begin to actually cry in front of him. Which she did.

"Oh Merlin, I ruin everything, don't I?" she sobbed, her face in her hands. "First, my p-parents and now this."

Snape stared down at her. She _did_ do a very idiotic thing, but it was clear that she was now cognizant of the fact. Snarling at her further was likely to make things worse and the others were still in the next room. He couldn't send her back there still in tears or it would all come spilling out and then he'd have to deal with the Malfoys in an uproar and quite frankly, he just couldn't. Not tonight. Not when he had to face Martinez the following afternoon. He heaved a great sigh and counted slowly while he attempted to hold his tongue.

"Your five minutes of self-pity are up, Miss Granger," he spoke at last, handing her a handkerchief. "Dry your tears or we shall be forced to tell the Malfoys what you've done before you've had time to think everything through."

She took it gratefully and dried the tears that had been rolling down her face.

"Do you think there…" She paused and blew her nose. "Do you think it could be un-done?"

"Not likely."

"I see." She began to grow calm and the brave face that she usually wore in impossible situations slowly resumed it's rightful place. She held up the handkerchief awkwardly, as if unsure what to do with it.

"Keep it," Snape grunted.

She gave a small nod and folded it before stuffing it into one of her pockets.

"I think I shall wait to tell him," she decided.

"As you'd like. But we should rejoin them."

"What should I say then? If even his parents know something has happened?"

"Tell them you were doing a ritual and perhaps it affected Draco's newly awakened family magic."

"Oh, but he hasn't…"

" _They_ don't know that. He likely doesn't either."

"Perhaps not." She looked at Snape in the eye and gave a small smile. "You know, Professor, I'm thankful that you're my advisor this year."

She turned and hurried out of the room, Snape on her heels.

When they entered the adjoining sitting room, Draco was finishing his hot cocoa and Blaise was telling them both what had happened in a rather exaggerated fashion.

"Blaise Zabini, you stop telling tales this instant," Hermione scolded. "I was merely doing something to hopefully help my parents and realised afterward that it must have also done something to awaken Malfoy's family magic. It makes sense, doesn't it? The whole place was charged with magic."

Draco stared back at her curiously. "Well, I suppose that it's possible. I certainly felt my magic get stronger."

"You see?" Hermione said imperiously, as if everything had been settled.

"Draco, might I have a word with you as well before I leave?"

"Of course, Professor."

He rose to his feet and the two of them went into the hallway, closing the door behind them.

"Yes?"

"When you return to school, I will begin training you to use your magic."

"You sure that it's a good idea?"

"Better you learn now than wait until you do something accidentally, like you did as a child."

"I'm not a child, though."

"No, but now you've become much more powerful than you realise. And I'd advise against you telling anyone. Not even your friends."

"Blaise would never say anything and Granger, well…"

"No one is to know exactly what you're capable of. Is that clear?" His voice was deathly serious and Draco got the message.

"Yeah, okay," he agreed, now uneasy. What did his godfather know that he wasn't telling?

* * *

**3 January 1999**

Snape lay buried beneath his thick quilt. The fires had obviously gone out and it was all could do to convince his hand to leave the warm cocoon and grab his wand from the nearby table. He levitated a bit of wood and quickly started the fire, but let the room warm considerably before he could bother with getting up. He didn't actually need to be at the school much before noon, but he wanted to catch Martinez before the staff meetings began. He tidied his already packed trunk and sent it down the stairs ahead of him, leaving it near the front door. He knew it was a silly habit as he didn't have any need to leave the house at all to apparate back to Hogwarts, but he allowed himself the symbolism all the same.

After a simple breakfast of marmite toast and black coffee, he perused his bookshelves. Most of his more useful volumes were already at the castle, but, considering Miss Granger's latest cock-up, there was a chance that something more obscure would be needed. After several minutes, he found what he was looking for: a slim burgundy volume with paper as thin as tissue as if the entire work was simply too fragile to commit to sturdier parchment. 'Our Magickal Core' was etched on the cover along with the runes for 'heart' and 'strength'. It wasn't a generally-consulted book as it had fallen out of fashion when wands had come into general use, but it was still considered by some academics to be a classic. He momentarily wondered if it was still required reading for those becoming Healers as he pocketed the small volume. Perhaps he would lend it to Miss Granger in the guise of extra-curricular study. It would hardly surprise anyone if she took on something else.

Snape returned to Hogwarts at precisely 11:15, apparating neatly back to his quarters (the perks of being a former Headmaster) and unpacked his things before seeking out the American witch whose ostentatious Christmas gift merited a discussion. When at last he found her near the entrance to the Great Hall, she was speaking animatedly with Professor Sinistra. As he drew near, he overheard her excuse herself as she turned toward him, as if the two of them had already planned to meet.

"Good morning, Professor Snape," she said with a grin.

He inclined his head in greeting. "A word, if you please?"

"I thought you might say that," she nodded, leading them out of earshot should anyone else show up early for the noon meal.

"I hope you didn't think it too forward of me, but I wanted to show you that I was being serious about what I'd said."

"A bit presumptuous to think I'd want to be recognised by the American Academy," he drawled.

"Oh come off it, you know you're one of the best Potion Masters around. Don't be such a snob."

"Then don't pretend that this was something you just whipped up in two weeks."

"I sent in your application mid-October while I was back in the States."

Snape eyed her carefully, but said nothing.

"Look, I knew we'd got off to a bad start and I wanted to do something for you that someone else should have done ages ago. And when the fellas saw your name on the application, they nearly flipped. They were so pleased."

"Pleased?" he drawled, incredulous.

"You're fucking Severus Snape, of course they're pleased. Why wouldn't they be? You're famous, you're a genius, and you're a hero. They nearly shit themselves!"

He didn't know if he should laugh or reprimand her. He opted for stoic silence.

Her mouth was curved in a satisfied smile as she looked up at him. She raised her hand, placing it on his chest.

"Face it, Severus," she whispered. "There are people out there who admire you." She gave him a quick peck on the cheek and sauntered away, leaving him standing there in a tangle of thoughts like an errant ball of wool a cat had discovered that morning.

How had his dunderhead students sometimes put it? 'What in Merlin's most baggy Y-fronts?' That witch got under his skin in more ways than one and it was only getting worse. He was still standing there when Minerva came by a few minutes later.

"Alright, Severus? Coming to lunch?"

He nodded and followed the witch to the Great Hall for the first meal of the new term and an afternoon of meetings before the students would arrive.

* * *

Draco awoke feeling much better than he had in some time. But no matter how he tried to badger it out of Hermione over breakfast, the witch refused to say what Snape had said to her the evening before.

"I don't see how it's your business," she quipped and said no more on the matter.

He decided to let it drop for the moment while they hurried to gather their things and make their way to King's Cross.

Hermione observed the whole thing as bittersweet. That was her last Christmas holiday as a student. She was nearly through with her studies. And while she had expected that she and Draco would go their separate ways after graduating - it was merely a fluke that the two of them had become friendly enough to holiday together - whatever she had just done made her worry about it immensely. But she wasn't about to tell him. No, that wouldn't do at all.

The afternoon stretched on as many Slytherins dropped by to see Blaise and Hermione wandered about, catching up with her other friends, especially Ginny.

"So how was it?" the red head whispered conspiratorially.

"Oh, it was actually really… really nice."

"C'mon, 'Mione, you can do better than that."

"Well, Snape was there for dinner two nights, you know, and it was all so strange. Narcissa was very kind, though. She's not at all like I imagined."

"Feeling you out, was she?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, it's obvious that Draco is interested in you."

Hermione flushed pink. "We're just friends."

"In any case, you're the girl he brought home."

"Oh, I doubt that she saw me like that at all! She never as much as hinted at it."

"She's a shrewd woman who knows her son better than you do."

"Oh but you can't mean… I mean, really…"

"Face it, he's only got eyes for you."

"Ginevra Weasley, stop telling lies!"

Ginny laughed and slapped her knee. "You can be in denial, Hermione. But if you're not at all interested in him, you need to do a better job at projecting it. I don't think he's getting the hint."

Hermione pursed her lips tightly shut.

"You didn't deny it. Ha!"

"I'm simply trying not to hex you," she replied tersely.

"Whatever. Go back to your Slytherins before they miss you too much and come looking for you."

"Now you're just being absurd. He would never…"

But she was unable to finish her sentence, for just at that moment, the compartment door opened and Draco peered in.

"There you are, Granger. We thought you'd jumped the train."

Ginny raised her eyebrow and gave a knowing look.

"I'm allowed to go where I'd like," Hermione huffed.

Draco pulled back. "Well, yeah, but you didn't say when you'd be back."

"Sorry, Malfoy, we're having a bit of a girl chat."

"Well, Blaise got you some things from the trolley."

"Oh, well, I'll be there in a bit, yeah?"

He closed the door and left, obviously in a pout.

"What's wrong with Malfoy taking an interest in you if you're not opposed?"

"Look, yesterday I've totally messed things up between he and I and I can't even tell him what I've done."

"What happened?"

"I can't tell you, either, but Professor Snape knows and, Merlin, it's such a mess."

"How does Snape know?"

"It really haven't the faintest idea. But… how am I supposed to just be around Draco and pretend everything is okay? Plus he knows that I've done _something_. He tried to get it out of me all morning."

"And you really can't tell him?"

"Not just yet."

"Well, don't cut him out of your life over it. He's changed, 'Mione. Who knows, maybe the two of you becoming friends is just fate intervening after all those years of stupidity." She paused a grinned. "And you should go back before he eats himself into a sugar coma from pining over you."

Hermione gave her friend a good thwack.

"He _did_ come looking for you. Just as I said," she added in a singsong voice.

"Shove off, Gin," she huffed as she stood. "Not a word of this, you hear?"

"Of course not," Ginny snickered.

When Hermione rejoined Draco and Blaise, there was indeed a pile of sweets in her seat. The space between the two wizards was littered with empty wrappers.

"Too many sweets are bad for you, you know?"

"Thanks, Mum," snarked Draco.

Hermione rolled her eyes.

Blaise snickered and quickly turned the conversation toward the upcoming term, his own plans while in Hogsmeade and the latest misadventures of his mother as he'd received a letter via owl post that morning and had just gotten around to reading it.

As they disembarked in Hogsmeade, Blaise pulled Hermione aside in spite of Draco's glare in his direction.

"Look after him, alright? It's been a difficult few months for him and something about you seems to keep him happy. It must be your immense brain," he chuckled and gave her a parting kiss on the cheek.

"What was that about?" questioned Draco as he and Hermione walked toward the carriages.

"He felt the need to be obnoxious one last time," she said vaguely.

"He's been nothing but the entire holiday."

"Is everything alright between the two of you?"

"Now it is," he replied as he helped her into the carriage, his hand touching the small of her back for a brief moment.

They sat next to one another, so she was unable to properly study him, but the entire time they spoke to the others, he pressed his leg gently against her own and she silently replayed her earlier conversation with Ginny. Was it possible that he saw her as something more?

The rest of the evening was consumed by the feast, laughing and listening to the other Eighth Years recount their holiday. By the time they got back to their rooms, Hermione was exhausted and decided to put the whole conundrum with Malfoy out of her mind until the next morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you once again dear readers for your patience and encouragement. Some days writing happens, some days it doesn't. In the meantime, I've finished a short new Snamione (I know, I know, not the same thing at all!) for Discord Server Page 394's Winter Holidays Celebration entitled "Snowblind". Until next time!  
> -  
> A big thanks to [@hizqueen4life](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hizqueen4life/pseuds/hizqueen4life) who caught a HUGE mistake, which has now been corrected.


	16. And Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The term is off to a great start: flirtations, discoveries, and awkwardness abounds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I own nothing pertaining to Harry Potter and the wizarding world and earn nothing from writing this bit of fiction. 
> 
> This story is now being beta'd by hizqueen4life and I am terribly grateful. Any remaining mistakes are my own.

**9 January 1999**

Hermione had happily settled back into a routine of classes, library, and books, if only to avoid thinking about what had happened between her and Draco. Unfortunately they were together far too often for her to completely forget, so when Snape called her to his office on the afternoon of the 7th, just before dinner, and handed her an obscure volume on magical cores, she thought she might just book tickets to somewhere far away and throw away her wand. There was one nagging thing that she couldn't quite shake, though: how did Snape know she'd done something serious? He never quite said, only that he knew and that Draco's parents both felt something. She'd been puzzling it out all week, but then, as she began reading the proffered volume in earnest, her memories flashed back to the previous June, when she'd saved his life. As far as she knew, he still had no idea about the life debt that he'd incurred. Was it possible that the disruption to her magical core had somehow alerted him? It stood to reason that if Draco's own parents could sense a change in their son's magic, perhaps it was possible. The more she thought about it, the more anxious she became.

On the morning of the 9th, Draco casually dropped during breakfast that it was Snape's birthday. Hermione felt a fresh wave of emotion wash through her.

"Malfoy, what would you think if we organised a little something with the rest of our year? You know, to show a bit of thanks?"

Draco smirked at the idea. He was certain that the grumpy wizard would no doubt be irritated that anyone even knew about it, but on the other hand it would be a nice gesture. If anyone had given their all to save their arses over the previous seven years, it was Snape. He turned to her with earnest.

"What do you suggest?"

* * *

Severus Snape had awoken that morning with a groan. His shoulders were stiff and he still felt slightly on edge after whatever Granger had stirred up during her little adventure to Avebury. He'd given her that book on Thursday and it was only a matter of time before she'd be knocking at his office door and asking obscure questions until she'd sorted out that he was right and that there was nothing to be done for it in the end. He opted to skip breakfast in the hall and took a light meal in his office where he could work undisturbed. Though it was Saturday, there were essays needing corrected and lessons to evaluate.

He was suspicious the moment he arrived at lunch. There were far to many glances in his direction, especially from the Eighth Year table. It was inherently suspicious when Draco approached him at the end of the meal to ask him to look into something for him in the common room around 8, though he agreed all the same.

He was unprepared for what he happened upon: the torches, which were barely flickering when he entered, flared to life and the Eighth Year students and the Hogwarts staff alike were all present and singing a rowdy Happy Birthday to him as someone foisted a Butterbeer into his hand. A host of emotions sped through him like a steam engine: irritation, anger, embarrassment, quickly tempered by their smiling faces to something akin to a trace of gratitude.

"Happy birthday, Professor Snape," they greeted him in turn, offering various niceties while Draco steered him to a small table laden with various sweets. He was about to scold Draco for not warning him, but as he reached for a pumpkin pasty, Draco had already disappeared and someone else had taken his place: Holly Martinez.

"I know, I'm like a bad penny. I keep turning up."

"You… what?" he groused. "Never mind."

"You sly thing, not even letting us know it was your birthday. How old are you, anyway? And don't lie or I'll just ask Minerva."

"Thirty-nine." He glowered at her, but that seemed to do nothing to deter the little smile on her face.

"You started here young, didn't you?"

Snape only shrugged and took a bite of his pasty so as to not be required to speak. It seemed the safest course of action.

Minerva walked up to them.

"Happy birthday, Severus. I'll have you know I had nothing to do with planning this, though I quite agreed that it was a fine idea."

'Typical,' he thought, 'washing her hands of the whole thing while still passing judgement.'

Several minutes later, he was able to edge away, share a brief conversation with Filius, who he needed to consult over some charms questions. Satisfied with his gleanings, he excused himself once more and made for the door. Martinez followed him into the corridor.

"Not much for parties, Snape?"

"What gave it away?" he drawled.

She chuckled and shook her head.

"Goodnight then. Let me know when you'd like to work on planning for the next Dueling Club."

Severus had his hand on the door by that point, but paused. Perhaps it was the unexpected turn of events that day that left him feeling slightly friendlier. That or he was trying not to think about the fact that she smelled like cinnamon again, something he hadn't noticed until she kissed his cheek several days ago. Truthfully, he had never stood close enough to her the previous term to know if she smelled of anything at all.

"Tomorrow, if you'd like."

"Right. My classroom? Around, shall we say, ten?"

He nodded and disappeared through the doorway. He sighed as he entered his chambers and put all thoughts of cinnamon out of his head as he sat down and began jotting down ideas for Dueling Club. It wouldn't do to show up tomorrow empty-handed.

* * *

**12 January 1999**

Hermione chewed her lip nervously as she stayed as everyone filed out at the end of Potions.

"You've finished the book then, Miss Granger?"

"I've read it four times and I still have some questions."

"Of course you do. Come to my office at 4 o'clock. Bring the book."

Hermione's eyebrows shot up. That was far too easy.

"Right. Thanks, Professor." She shot him a smile and nearly skipped out of the room.

Severus sighed and realised he hadn't even told her what he'd learned from Filius. He supposed he ought to tell her that afternoon.

* * *

Hermione was undoubtedly enthusiastic at first when Professor Snape offered to meet her that afternoon, but now that it was nearly time, she found herself growing nervous. Promptly at 4 o'clock, she rapped lightly on the door.

"Come in, Miss Granger."

She closed the door behind her and swallowed anxiously as she slipped into the chair across from his desk.

"Before you rattle off your questions, I have a small bit of news I wish to impart."

She nodded and he continued.

"I need to know exactly how you Obliviated your parents. Filius seems to think that perhaps there could be a way to undo it through the means of Legillimency, but I will require every detail you can provide so as to not cause further damage. Do you understand? There are no guarantees, but if you wish for me to try, I will arrange something."

Hermione brightened suddenly at the prospect.

"Yes! Yes, of course. I'll write it all down, shall I?"

"That will not be necessary. What I do need is your memory of the event."

"My memory…" she repeated slowly. Having Snape in her head could be dangerous. But if she extracted the memory, she wouldn't exactly have it anymore. Not clearly, anyway.

"Yes. Now what were your questions on the book?"

"Well, I've really put my foot in it, haven't I?"

"That is one way of looking at it."

"And you're certain that Malfoy's parents felt something?"

"Narcissa implied as much."

"But he has no idea?"

"Not just yet."

"So how did you know?"

"I felt something."

"But you're not connected to his magic…? You know, being his godfather?" Honestly she had no idea how that even worked in wizarding circles.

"No," he said, eyes narrowing, and she immediately regretted going down this conversational path. "Rather curious, is it not?"

"Are you quite certain?"

"There was no magic involved. It wasn't even anything official."

Hermione exhaled slowly.

"What are you not telling me, Miss Granger?" he asked in a low voice. It felt at once dangerous and hard.

It was like an alarm bell sounded in her head. She had seen him angry with her, but never once had he felt as sinister as he did in that moment. She knew he had the means to pry open her mind if he wished. She also knew that, deep down, he had never wanted to maim her outright. She tried to focus on that. Hurt, maybe, permanently maim, no. He got angry, not homicidal. Right? Right? Except for that time with Sirius…

"Malfoy said you've offered to tutor him," she babbled, hoping to change the subject.

"It would seem prudent now, would it not? Now answer my question." The last few words had jagged edges, like a steak knife carved from ice.

"Please don't be cross," she pleaded softly. "I swear it wasn't… I didn't…"

"Out with it," he spat. His eyes now were narrowed into dark slits. He regarded her with his arms crossed as he now leant back in his chair watching her squirm.

"I'm rather afraid that it's likely because…" She wrung her hands as her tongue wet her lower lip. "Perhaps it's from… I didn't know and it didn't even matter… you were dying, Professor and I just couldn't," she gulped. "I couldn't leave you there."

He leaned forward and fought back the urge to hex the witch before him. Oh, he was angry, of that there was no doubt. But this chit, this witch who found herself bounding from one colossal mistake to another, had, by charity once more, done the irrevocable.

"Show me," he hissed, leaning as far over the desk now as was able without standing.

She opened her eyes wide in fear and he plowed right in.

It was the foremost thought in her mind at that moment, which saved him the trouble of searching. It was strange seeing it all from her point of view: hiding in the tunnel, hearing the noises, watching his exchange with Harry that he was certain was going to be his last. She left but came back, obviously did all that she knew how, and then got him to safety. He saw her memory of swearing Poppy and Minerva to secrecy, a bold thing to do considering Minerva's position as Headmistress. Of her dithering about in a shop as she considered buying him a gift when she'd heard that he was awake, the small cauldron that she finally gave him months later.

While he was there, he searched for other things, looking for the memory of her last moments with her parents during the war until he found it. Merlin, she was dreadfully precise, her wand not shaking in the slightest. She was truly a formidable witch, even under pressure. He would never tell her that, most likely. All the more reason to train Draco, however, before he accidentally tapped into her magic.

But Merlin's scraggly beard, a life debt. He slipped back out of her thoughts and stared at her. Hard. Her eyes were still wide, hands gripping the seat of the chair like it was going to slip out from under her.

"Get. Out." he hissed.

And Hermione Granger, because she was intelligent, leapt to her feet and got away as fast as she could manage, taking care to completely close the door behind her on her way out.

He desperately wanted to break something and settled on the chair that Hermione had just recently vacated. He picked it up and smashed it on the floor repeatedly before wandlessly blasting it to bits. How many more secrets were there for him to uncover? How many others would he be beholden to in his life? And how many more lives would Hermione Granger inflict her magical mishaps on? (Granted, it had been intentional with her parents and she'd done a fine job of it, but even that was obviously not without regrets.) It was good that she'd finally told him and he should have known by the fact that she'd been awkwardly kind to him, offering him small gifts and being otherwise thoughtful. It was clear she'd felt guilty about it. Not about saving him, but about the fact that there were unforeseen consequences which would not please him. She was careless, making the others swear to secrecy that it had been her. He should never have believed the load of waffle he'd been fed about his rescue. Of course do-gooder Granger would have been involved. Better her than Potter, but still.

A knock sounded on the door and Martinez poked her head in.

"Bad time? Shall I come back later?"

She looked from the pile of splintered wood and dust on the floor to the wizard staring at it as though he was considering incineration next.

"I'd move that to the floo before burning it. Just some friendly advice."

And then she disappeared.

He ran his hand through his long hair and did exactly that, sending the pile of wood bits to the fireplace where he cast an Incendio and watched it be immediately consumed. It was over far too quickly, but it had done its job and Severus found a modicum of solace in the fact that the chair was quite thoroughly destroyed. He considered summoning an elf to ask for a replacement, but then he thought perhaps it might be good for whoever had to come see him to be forced to stand. If they ask what happened to the chair, he would tell them that it was better the chair than its previous occupant and leave it at that. The rumour mill would do the rest and maybe, just maybe, no one would come calling without doing some serious soul-searching beforehand.

* * *

Hermione collapsed on one of the couches in the common room, heart beating in her throat.

Draco had just come out of his room to get a drink when she had flown into the room as though an angry hippogriff was chasing her.

"Problems?" he quipped.

She looked over at him and debated what to say as she tried to catch her breath. He looked as though he'd been taking a nap. His hair was slightly mussed and he had a small crease on his right cheek.

She shrugged and he returned a few minutes later with two mugs of tea. He held one out to her, which she gratefully accepted. He slid onto the cushion beside her and put an arm around the back of the couch behind her.

"You look spooked."

"Professor Snape," she answered at last after taking a tentative sip of her tea, making sure she wasn't about to burn her tongue.

"If it was about the party—"

"It's best that he not know that I had anything to do with it."

"So what then?"

The two of them passed several minutes in silence while they drank their tea and stared at the fire before them.

"If you don't want to talk about, I understand," Draco offered at last.

"It's just… well, it's complicated, you see. I really hadn't meant to, you know. I was only doing what's right."

"What in Salazar's name did you do?"

"I saved his life, Malfoy."

"Ah. Yeah, I can see him being angry about that sort of thing. But he'll get over it once he's grateful to be alive."

"I'm not sure you're understanding," she sighed.

Draco swivelled his head to look at her. She looked dreadfully serious and had a death grip on her mug.

"It's a life debt, isn't it?" he asked quietly.

When she gave a tiny nod, he let out a low whistle.

"Well, just do something really stupid this year so he can make it even. He'll be relieved and you'll be able to get on with your life."

Hermione shrugged, not wanting to reveal her latest blunder.

"I can arrange something, if you'd like."

"I think it's best that it happen, you know, naturally."

"You could wander in the Forbidden Forest at night?"

"I don't actually have a death wish, you know."

"Most people don't, Granger, but if you don't want this thing hanging over your head…"

"I've lived with worse," she replied tersely.

"Yeah," he answered slowly. "I expect you have, being Saint Potter's sidekick."

She struck out and kicked his shin with the side of her foot.

"Ouch, witch, I didn't mean that sort of sidekick."

"That's for talking about Harry like that. I thought we'd gotten past that."

"I was only teasing, Granger. You have to take everything so seriously, don't you?"

"Maybe it's because I have to, Malfoy. Did that ever occur to you?"

She had that look of irritation on her face that Draco was growing to adore.

"Because I'm the sodding Prince of Slytherin and don't know a thing about being serious?" His tone was playful, but knew it would rile her all the same.

"You're incorrigible," she huffed.

Draco's face broke into a smile. A really charming one at that. Nix that thought, she scolded herself.

He leaned closer and whispered, "Keep using those swotty words, Granger. I like it."

She fought to repress the shiver that he caused.

"Reprehensible git."

"What else?" he murmured along her ear.

"Cheeky prat," she giggled.

"That's hardly swotty of you to say."

The door burst open to the common room, causing Draco to sit up once more, both hands now on his mug before him while two of the girls scampered in and headed straight for one of the rooms, twittering madly about something.

He took one glance at Hermione and saw that the moment was lost.

"So the night we went to the henge…" he began, hoping a change of subject would bring things back around.

Hermione stood abruptly.

"Thanks, Malfoy, for the tea and sympathy, but I really need to go study."

She thrust her mug at him and hurried to her room, closing the door a bit harder than she meant to.

'Oh sweet Merlin,' she chided herself, knowing full well that she's a bigger fool than he could imagine.

* * *

**22 January 1999**

Snape was grateful that when he met with Martinez to plan for the next Dueling Club she'd said nothing about his obvious tantrum the day before. The fact that Granger had done not just one but three quasi-selfless things with unintended consequences for all involved. Would restoring her parents' memories cancel his debt? And what was he to do about Draco? And more importantly, what was he going to say to Lucius when the man found out? Because even if Draco seems content to let things lie, Lucius most certainly will not be. He had resumed mulling these things over as soon as he'd left her classroom, mingled with the realisation that this meeting had been the easiest yet. He chalked it up to the fact that she had stopped trying to be a thorn in his side and gave little thought to the fact that he was behaving more civilly as well.

They had decided to pair the oldest students with the youngest again, this time with the view to helping the younger ones learn better habits, allowing them to personally focus on the second to fifth years who weren't old enough to fight before but still live with the horrors of war firmly entrenched in their minds. The evening sped smoothly by and only a few times were either professor required to intervene when a hex had gotten out of hand. No one even needed to go to the infirmary. Hermione kept her attention turned from Professor Snape and did all that she could to avoid him in every way possible. Draco, however, found himself near distraction as he watched his godfather working in tandem with Professor Martinez. He found himself hit more than once from his first year partner, a tan, scrawny boy from Hufflepuff who was more than pleased to land a hex or three on one of the legendary Eighth Years, the most formidable witches and wizards in the school, barring the professors themselves of course.

The students were hot and sweaty as they poured out of the room and the coolness of the corridors had never felt more welcome.

"Hey, Granger," Draco called over to her. "A few of us are going to play chess. We need one more. You in?"

"Maybe after I shower?"

He knew that she was human and bathed like everyone else, but it felt awkward talking about it with her. Perhaps because it gave him ideas that he probably should avoid having.

"Yeah ok. I'll let them kno—"

He was cut off by the force of someone yanking him back into the room.

"Not so fast," Snape grimaced. "You were clearly distracted tonight. You're lucky to have walked away so easily. What's going on?"

"Nothing, professor."

Snape gave Martinez a nod before she let herself out of the room, leaving the two of them to talk privately.

"Hmm. I suggest we meet on Sunday and begin your training."

"Training? Was I that bad tonight?"

"Don't be daft, I'm talking about your new magic."

In all honestly, Draco was still busy thinking about a certain brunette that would perhaps be stepping under a hot spray of water any minute now, the rivulets running down her…

Snape cuffed him likely on the arm.

"Would you care to tell me where your mind is?"

Alarm spread over his face and he collected himself.

"But I didn't feel any different tonight. Aside from that weird surge of magic at the stones, nothing has changed."

"Even your parents felt it, Draco." It was just as well to keep going with the story that he had concocted for Hermione. "Your grandfather did say that someone else could train you. I don't see why I shouldn't be the one."

They agreed to meet back in the same room they used for Dueling just after lunch the next day. Draco hurried back to the common room where Theo and Terry were getting the boards set up. About ten minutes later, Hermione emerged from the girls bathroom, dressed in sweats and a thick jumper, her hair up in a towel.

"Malfoy mentioned you needed a fourth?"

After a few rounds of chess, Hermione and Draco made plans to study in the library in the morning after he broke the news that he was meeting Snape after lunch.

"That's wonderful! If anyone can help you, it will be Snape."

"I thought he was a wretched git in your book?"

"Well, sometimes, but none of us are perfect, are we?"

"Some come closer than others," he replied softly, looking down into her brown eyes that twinkled in the torchlight.

"Git."

"I'm not talking about me, Granger."

"Oh Merlin, look at the time!" she squeaked and, muttering a feeble apology, scampered to her room where she threw herself down on the bed.

Did he actually like her? He was acting like he did. Did she like him? Well, she was rather certain of it, more than last term. But then the knowledge of how she messed them up for the rest of their lives washed over her like a bucket of ice water. Surely he would be angry with her if he knew. Could he find it in his heart to trust her after such a thing? The very idea made her heart beat an anxious tattoo.

* * *

Draco, who couldn't for the life of him understand Hermione's bizarre behaviour since they'd returned to school, felt deflated. He was sure she enjoyed his attention. She certainly never pushed him away or asked him to stop. Instead, she would encourage him onward, only to run away in the end. Had he done something wrong? Or perhaps he wasn't being clear enough. Whatever the problem was, he wanted to get to the bottom of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Thank you once again to everyone who has commented or given kudos. 
> 
> I just suddenly remembered when kudos breakfast bars were a new thing. I should probably sleep instead of thinking about all the breakfast "foods" that I have consumed over the years. XD Until next time!


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